From Eden
by OverwhelmedAndTerrified
Summary: They'd only truly met 2 days ago and already her eyes were begging him to, please, show her how to live with such pain.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I tend to be pretty impatient. That's why I'm partial to writing 1 and 2 chapter stories, because then I can dive headfirst into the drama. But this story, while still pretty short, will be the longest one I've ever uploaded and it's certainly challenging me as a writer. With more ground to cover I've had to do more research and flesh things out much more than I'm used to. Sometimes it's a huge headache because I really just want to get to the good shit, you know the kissing and the screaming and the passion and the pain. But I felt it'd be a little irresponsible of me to write a multi-chapter fic this way. Anyway, this story is based on the first verse and chorus of the song "From Eden" by one of my favorite artists: Hozier. Each chapter will be accompanied by a line from the song and reflect my interpretation of it. You don't have to know the song to understand the story but I still recommend listening to it just because it's an incredible song (all of his songs are really) and he's an extremely talented and creative lyricist with an interesting perspective. That being said, happy reading!**

 ** _"_** ** _Babe, there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you. Don't you agree?"_**

Austin's stomach lurched every time a mile marker whizzed by. Desperately in need of fresh air, he quickly rolled his window down and silently thanked his lucky stars that his exit was fast-approaching. Too much more of this and he'd be pulling Roxanne over on the highway shoulder and puking his breakfast up in the weeds. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. That omelet, or whatever the hell Ansley cooked, was sitting like a brick in his gut. As if on cue, Austin belched so violently that his classic black Ray-bans went off-kilter.

"Fucking hell." He mumbled, straightening the shades.

Ansley was good at one thing and cooking was definitely not it. Austin should've kicked her out of his hotel room last night the minute he vacated that sweet warmth between her legs. But no, instead he fell for all of her 'my roommate and I are fighting can I just stay here the night?' bullshit. And how could he say no with her naked and curled around him and offering to make breakfast the next morning? So he reluctantly relented then listened to her snore like a goddamn lawnmower before finally passing out around 3am. And when he awoke 6 hours later, it was to the smell of burnt pancakes.

When Austin left his apartment in Virginia Beach, drove the 7 and a half hours to Savannah, Georgia, and found a decent hotel, he wasn't planning on going to a bar, let alone picking up a strawberry blonde, heavily tattooed whiskey vixen who didn't know her way around a stove. But he ended up doing both and ultimately paying for it. Now at 6pm he was driving those final minutes into Miami, and running on nothing but an almost-omelet, a huge cup of black coffee, and 2 thin lines of cocaine. Ansley hadn't said a word as he created white stripes on the hotel writing desk with his debit card, but just sat watching in her bra and jeans.

Another exit sign passed by overhead and his belly did a somersault. Not only was the shitty egg dish bubbling uncomfortably within his gut, but being so close to 'home' always made him feel sick. Good thing his dad was dead; one less pain in the ass to deal with. He glanced in the rearview at his black suit as it hung in a garment bag by the window. A few shovel-fuls of dirt tomorrow and the old man would be where he belonged, below ground.

Another exit and another sickening gastric twist. God he should've flown. But he waited til the very last minute to decide on attending dear old dad's funeral and by then even super cheap Spirit Airlines wanted 500 bucks not including a carry-on or a checked bag. Fuuuuck that. Plus, Austin hadn't flown since 1998 when he was 6 and, obviously, TSA was taking far less shit nowadays. If they objected to bottled water he seriously doubted they'd be more receptive to cocaine and weed. One of his bandmates did say that airline personnel don't give a shit about what's in your checked bag and suggested he could tuck his contraband in there, but Austin was not at all willing to take the chance. And there was no way he'd be spending more than 2 hours in Miami with his mom without an adequate drug supply.

He let down the passenger side window too and the scent of salt water was unmistakable. He loved it. And he hated that he loved it. What was he even doing there? Austin and his father had a mutual hatred for one another ever since 2003 when that piece of shit decided to start speaking with his fists instead of his words. He was glad his dad was dead. Hell, when his mom called with the news last week, Austin had celebrated with a bottle of gin and a night on the town. But before he could rush over to the liquor cabinet, his mother begged tearfully for him to attend the funeral. And goddamnit if he didn't have a rotten, stinking, sore spot for females in need. He released another sulfuric burp as evidence.

When his cell phone suddenly rang, Austin checked the screen before quickly unplugging it from the auxiliary cord.

"Dez what's up?"

"Hey man where are you?"

"Umm like 20 minutes outside of Miami."

"Oh ok. Nervous?"

Austin scoffed, "Hell no."

"Ouch shit!"

"What?"

"Gavin's devil cat just ambushed my foot again."

"I swear to God that cat has it out for you man." The blonde laughed, "Maybe he thinks you're a giant ginger mouse."

"Maybe I should make some cat casserole."

Austin cracked up, "Why didn't Gav just leave him back in Virginia?"

"Because 'Turkey can't be home alone for a week are you insane?!'" Dez replied, mocking their roommate.

"Oh my God." Austin rolled his eyes.

"I'm like a goddamn human scratching post but as long as it pleases the great Turkey then who cares right?"

"Hey so how'd rehearsal go today?"

"It was fine. We didn't kill it but it was still pretty decent. I mean it would've been way better with you there. Tucker's good on guitar but his vocals are weak. Me, Gavin, and Jace can kinda harmonize enough to get by but we're hurting without you man."

"I knooow I know just let me get through this funeral tomorrow and I'll hit the road as soon as he's 6 feet under."

"Are you gonna be here in time for our show tomorrow night?"

"I should b- Hey asshole it's called a fucking blinker! Jesus Christ! Uh yeah I should be. Funeral's at 8am, I doubt there'll be many people there to pay their respects. Should be worm chow before 10 and it takes me like 9 hours to get there. What time do you guys go on?"

"Well the night show is at 10."

"Oh awesome yeah I should be there in time."

"Are you gonna be able to make that drive if you're waking up at the ass crack of dawn?"

"Yeah I'll be riding the white horse the whole way." He ran his tongue over his gums, catching bitter traces of the coke he'd dusted there earlier.

"Ok cool. We might actually have the chance to wow some of the suits out here this week afterall."

"I hope so man. But my exit's coming up I'll call you later okay."

"Alright dude. Later."

"Bye."

Austin hung up and plugged the aux cord back into his phone. He immediately opened iTunes and selected something loud and angry. He felt like he was letting the guys down, especially now when Flesh & Bone was potentially on the cusp of fame. Over the past 3 years he and his friends/roommates/bandmates enjoyed great local success in Virginia Beach. And it was because of their moderate celebrity that they'd been invited to "One Hundred Amps", a week long rock and roll music festival in Atlanta. They'd be performing 1-2 shows every day and, hopefully, catching the eye of someone important and business-y.

Of course his bastard of a father decided to have an aneurysm 5 days before One Hundred Amps started. And of fucking course his mother decided to bury said bastard the day the most important festival of his life started. Austin was driving deeper into Miami while Jace's 17 year old cousin Tucker acted as his temporary, and apparently somewhat shitty, replacement.

He took the next exit, now only 15 minutes from his childhood home and his stomach quivered in response. Austin pulled up to a red light and looked around as Roxanne, his black 2006 Honda Civic, idled. Miami was just like he left it the first time 7 years ago and then again 4 years ago. He already knew that when he departed for Georgia tomorrow morning, the city in his rearview would always remain the same. Florida sunshine was infamous and, with Miami at the near tip of the peninsula, the light and heat were merciless even in late-March. Girls walking along the sidewalks or in and out of clothing stores did so in flip flops and shorts and skin-tight things. His eyebrows rose well above the sunglasses. Florida beach babes were certainly a nice contrast to the hipster chicks VA Beach seemed to be crawling with. Austin watched a particularly curvaceous Latina in a cheetah print sundress stroll past with her almost equally hourglass-shaped friend. He puckered up, a wolf whistle on the tip of his tongue, but was interrupted by an impatient car horn. The light was green.

"Alright alright calm your tits man." He grumbled, pulling off.

The city seemed to hum with potential activity, as if the chaos of Miami nightlife was always running just beneath the surface. It was an electric current, a throbbing pulse, waiting to be tapped by the masses, even at 6pm on a Thursday. This was all to his right, the restaurants, bars, and shops rushing by in a blur just waiting to come alive. On the other hand, to his left, there was the beach.

Austin never went to college, but he'd lived in Miami long enough to recognize Spring Breakers when he saw them. It being nearly April meant that most of the celebrating students had already come and gone but there were still plenty of schools left that had only just set their attendees free. The beach wasn't waiting to burst with activity, it had already exploded much earlier in the day and was now choked to death with people. It was a mass of beer cans and exposed skin that littered the sand and spilled over into the waves. A stage, big and temporary and covered in FM-109 logos, rose up from the crowd. On it some nobody of a rapper paced back and forth, shouting an ass-shaking combination of rhymes and profanity. The absolute pandemonium immediately took Austin's mind back to the music festival he was currently missing out on. He pushed Roxanne even further above the speed limit.

His cell rang again as he turned onto a residential street. He checked the screen and, with a powerful eye roll, pressed ignore. 20 seconds later and he was pulling into the driveway of his childhood home, his belly all knotted to hell. Unlike the city itself, this particular house _had_ changed since he ran away at 16 and then again when he went storming out at 19, wondering why he'd ever thought visiting was a good idea. Now here Austin was once more, 23 years old, staring at the most recent cosmetic changes to his parents' house. When he still lived there it was just a quaint little single story, 2 bedroom, 1.5 bathroom, with a lawn that was perpetually more weeds than grass. Up until he turned 16 and hit the road, their place was all chipped paint, creaking floorboards, and the occasional cockroach. When he returned the first time after staying away for 3 years, the exterior had gone from dingy white to a fresh coat of eggshell brown and inside all the chipping layers had been repainted. Now, 4 years after that disaster of a visit, the lawn was lush and manicured with a few flowers planted near the front door, which was an inviting red rather than the forest green he was used to. Through the windows Austin could see new curtains, white with some kind of design on them. The house was cute and that's something it had never been before. It was gradually becoming something his mom would adore but that did little to ease the sour taste in his mouth. Either his mother was becoming more assertive with the finances, or his father had grown more abusive over the years and each little fix was his way of saying sorry.

Roxy continued to purr around Austin, ready to make a break for it if he was.

His cell rang again and he pressed ignore before turning the car off. With a deep breath and another sickening burp, he unplugged his phone and vacated the Honda. It was really now or never. Still, he hesitated before slamming the driver's side door shut. Austin knew his mother was in there, grieving and cooking something and probably already thinking about calling him a 3rd time.

"Jesus." He groaned openly to the afternoon sky, suddenly not up for this encounter at all. His hands moved without him telling them too, opening Roxanne's back door and reaching for his grey duffle bag. He really only needed like 2 small bumps of the white stuff, just enough to endure a conversation with his passive mom about his asshole dad. He leaned into the backseat, digging through a couple pairs of socks and underwear. Austin's last hit had been more than 7 hours ago and minimal at best, so when he quickly snorted a tiny mound of cocaine off of the back of his hand, then another, it hit him like a breath of fresh air, like ice and fire both exploding in his sinuses. There were fireworks behind his eyes as they shut tight and lightning bolts piercing his brain. Air and electricity and flames and color consuming him in a fleeting but potent moment. He sniffled repeatedly and wiped at his nostrils. A sigh escaped him as this wave of peace quieted his nerves and relaxed his mind. Unfortunately though, his stomach continued to bubble uncomfortably. Damn Ansley.

Austin immediately straightened up at the sound of an approaching car and quickly dropped the little plastic baggy back in his duffle. He looked out toward the street, fingers still swiping self-consciously at his nose. There was a red Volkswagen bug cruising down the residential road, coming toward him with a perfect view of his very illegal indiscretions. And for a moment he felt panic creeping into his chest. But the driver didn't seem to be paying him the slightest bit of attention. She stared straight ahead, hands on 10 and 2 like a good little driver. But just as Austin released the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding, Miss VW Beetle slowed to pass over a speed bump and one of those perfectly positioned hands moved to her face. He lifted the Ray-bans to the top of his blond head, staring more intently. She was crying- no…sobbing, as her tiny car moved in slow motion. Then the girl was over the speed bump and continuing past him. He watched her come to a 4-way intersection and stop. Hers was the only car there and Austin waited expectantly for her to keep going. But she didn't. Any other driver would've basically breezed straight through the intersection on seeing it so empty. But she didn't.

Austin looked away but he couldn't bring himself to enter his childhood home just yet. Instead, he replied to a few texts on his phone, including one that begged ' _Don't forget me when you get rich and famous Austy_ ;) '. The number was unsaved but there was only one girl who called him by the worst nickname he'd ever heard. Scoffing, he sent a noncommittal ' _sure'_ and nothing more because that fucking chick couldn't even make pancakes for Christ's sake. Next he checked his email and sent some replies. After that he deliberately spent at least 10 minutes on his various social media profiles, doling out likes and dropping comments. Then, with a silent prayer, he looked back up hoping she was gone.

She wasn't.

The little VW bug still sat there at the stop sign, its brake lights glowing bright red. Austin mumbled a curse word under his breath because now he was hopelessly intrigued and that stupid soft spot he had for damsels in distress was aching.

Maybe it was that tender side of himself that forced Austin down the driveway and out into the street. Or maybe it was the cocaine quickly transitioning from airway to bloodstream that brought his body closer to that overly girly vehicle. Perhaps it was the brake lights drawing him in like a drugged up moth to a flame. Whatever. Regardless of the 'why', it was a stupid and strange idea. But that didn't stop him.

"What am I doing? What am I doing?" he whispered to himself with his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket and his black Vans striding forward with purpose. He approached the driver's side window slowly, sure she'd see him out of the corner of her eye and speed off.

But she didn't.

She stared straight ahead, hands at 10 and 2, like a good little driver.

Austin slowed even further. Praying and waiting for her to finally notice him and step on the gas and save them both from this awkward encounter. But she didn't. Even when he stood mere inches from her window and bent at the waist to peer inside, she stared straight ahead, like a good little driver.

He took a moment to observe her. The girl's profile was striking but even more arresting was the state she was in. The tears had stopped. Well actually no they hadn't because there was another one rolling down her cheek. But she wasn't sobbing anymore. She was just sitting there with eyes glassy and unmoving. Austin wondered what could've possibly turned a girl that was bubbly enough to drive a rosy red VW Bug into this broken statue with a tightly furrowed brow and hands that white-knuckled the steering wheel.

 _Fuck it_ , _I'm already here._

Austin rapped on the glass gently with his knuckle. She didn't jump like he expected. In fact, he had to knock once more before getting any kind of reaction. And even then, it was out of the ordinary.

She moved in painfully slow motion. Her head turned to him gradually, as if the tapping was a faint sound deep in her own subconscious or a tiny flint spark in the darkness. Something heavy and hypnotizing surrounded them in that moment and Austin immediately recognized that it was her, not the brake lights or even the drugs, pulling him in without even trying. He grew breathless as she revealed herself. She was a dark haired beauty and the word 'classic' immediately came to mind. Even the look on her face harkened back to old Hollywood, like a glamorous starlet who'd just been told the love of her life was being sent to war and now her dark eyebrows knitted upwards in worry and her lips curved in this gentle convex of devastation. And her eyes, brown and wide and heavily bagged, stared completely through him as if something horrifying peeked over the horizon and if she looked away it'd devour her whole. Austin managed to claw his way out of the girl's haunting gaze long enough to see that her grip on the wheel had tightened and her outstretched arms quivered.

"Hey." He blurted out with another knock on the window, her lost expression unnerving the shit out of him.

This time, thank God, she did jump. She came rapidly back to herself with a jolt and blinked repeatedly, her eyes registering the world around her for the first time in at least 12 minutes. Austin watched her quickly wipe the tears from her face.

"You alright?" he asked.

She tried to smile but it barely reached her lips let alone her eyes. It became obvious that she was completely frazzled from being discovered in such a vulnerable state. When she spoke her voice wavered.

"Uh yes yeah I'm fine um I'm so sorry am I in your way? I'm in your way aren't I?"

Of course she thought he was some disgruntled driver demanding to know why she'd kept him waiting at this empty 4-way stop for so long. That would make sense. Him being a total creeper motivated by nothing but curiosity and cocaine? That made NO sense. So he faltered.

"Uh well I-"

"Oh my God I'm so sorry I-I must be holding you up I'm going to go now okay sorry again! Sorry!"

Austin blinked and she was gone, her little red punch buggy cruising into the intersection and turning right. He watched it drive further into the neighborhood before losing visibility behind shrubs and trees. Then, with her beautifully sad features still fresh in his mind, Austin doubled over and vomited in the street.

Fucking Ansley.

 **I know it's only the first chapter but I'd love love love some feedback and any kind of constructive criticism you can give me. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**_"_** ** _Babe, there's something lonesome about you, something so wholesome about you. Get closer to me."_**

Austin munched on 2 strips of chewing gum as he waited for his mom to come to the door. He was no animal expert but what looked like a crow had already landed next to his puke and was pecking at the chunks.

"Austin Monica my baby boooyyy!"

His head whipped around at the sound of creaking hinges and his mother's voice. And, despite not even wanting to be there, Austin had to smile because Mimi Moon was always so happy to see him, even after all this time, no matter what.

"Hey mom."

"I've been calling you." She wrapped him in a tight hug as soon as he crossed the threshold, "Oh my little prince! It's been so long!"

"Mom I can't breathe."

"I haven't seen you in years let me squeeze the life out of you a little bit."

He breathed a kind of laugh that was both embarrassed and flattered at the same time. And he allowed himself to be held in maternal arms for a few moments longer, just to make up for lost time.

"Oh my goodness let me get a good look at you." She finally pulled away but gripped him around his triceps, "You're just as handsome as ev- Austin _another_ tattoo?"

He followed her incredulous eyes to his shoulder. Mimi pulled up the short sleeve of his red t-shirt, revealing an open umbrella inked into his skin.

"What you don't like it?" Austin smirked. He'd actually gotten 5 more tattoos since his mom last saw him at age 19, but the umbrella was the only one of the newer additions that was visible.

"You know how I feel about tattoos." Her eyes wandered across the rest of him, either searching for more ink or appreciating how much he'd grown, "And when do you plan on getting a haircut?"

"Aw come on mom don't start okay." He ran a hand through his own offending locks, suddenly annoyed.

"Alright alright fine." Mimi reached up to brush her son's bangs aside only to have him lean his head away, avoiding contact completely. That small movement was like a knife piercing all the way through her chest, slicing the muscles and scraping her ribs and skewering her heart with a pulpy squish. The relationship she had with her son had been filled with moments like these, where he shied from her hands. But Mimi Moon would never grow accustomed to him pulling away from her, she'd never grow accustomed to the knife.

"Well…" she cleared her throat and wrung her hands and smiled, "How was the drive?"

"Long as shit." He replied, adjusting the duffel bag hanging on his shoulder.

"Austin. Language please."

"I stopped and stayed the night in Georgia then drove the rest of the way this morning." He didn't even acknowledge her disapproval, allowing the bump of coke in his arteries to keep his temper in check.

"Well come on in the kitchen I'm almost done with dinner."

His stomach suddenly clenched and groaned in response. It was all because of those little white lines of his; they kept him awake, they kept him calm, but they'd killed his appetite the entire trip. And now, with his previous high long gone, his current high still processing, and the only meal he'd had all day currently out in the street being eaten by birds, Austin's belly was screaming for sustenance.

He sat at their little Formica dinner table and watched his mom move about the kitchen.

"So how are things in Virginia?" Mimi asked, stirring something in a steam-choked pot, "Are you still playing in that band?"

She liked knowing what was going on in his life, though they spoke on the phone maybe only once every 5 months and even then Austin always seemed to be in the middle of something or on the verge of being in the middle of something. Their longest conversation, and yes she'd timed it, lasted about 20 minutes but only because Austin kept telling her to hold on while he spoke to some rowdy voices in the background.

"Uh yeah." He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand, "We actually have a couple of shows coming up so…"

"Hm." She murmured, her disappointment very thinly veiled.

Austin grinned, his head growing light, "What's the matter mom? Not a fan of Flesh & Bone? You don't want my autograph?"

She paused with her back to him, stirring the spaghetti sauce much slower. For a second, he thought she'd burst into tears. But then her voice was smiling again.

"Are you hungry? Or did you already eat on the road?"

"I'm starving actually."

Mimi got to work fixing their plates. Austin continued to watch her. Cooking was usually a calming experience for his mom. Even as a youngster, Austin noticed how her shoulders would gradually relax once the water started to boil or how measuring ingredients seemed to put the smile back on her face. But now the magic of Mimi's kitchen didn't seem to be working and she was trying hard to hide her sorrow. A low rattling filled the kitchen as her shaky hands collected a couple of ceramic plates from the cabinet. Even the way she plated the meal was full of agitated gestures that sent spaghetti sauce splattering unnecessarily or a piece of garlic bread falling to the floor with a soft crunch. By the time she finished making both of their plates and carrying them over, there was a small mess along the stovetop and adjacent counter.

"Okay here we go. Spaghetti and meatballs." She set one of the plates before him and the other across from him. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Any beer?"

She paused on her way to the fridge, not wanting to remember that her baby boy was now an adult and well over the legal drinking age. "Um I don't… there's some…Sunny D."

"Sunny D?" He was grinning again, "What am I fucking 10 years old?"

"Austin language!"

"Who the hell are you even buying that stuff for? Is there a 5th grade soccer team from 1993 coming over later?"

She shifted uncomfortably as Austin teased, "I think your father might still have some of that Pabst Blue Ribbon in the fridge."

He grimaced, "PBR? No thanks I get enough of that hipster bullshit back in Virginia."

Mimi shot him a look and he rolled his eyes.

"Pardon me. Bull _poop_."

This time she laughed and Austin would be lying if he said it didn't sound like a sweet old melody.

"So what'll it be little prince?"

He struggled not to wince as she called him that for the second time. Honestly, he'd even prefer Austy over Little Prince.

"Ummm Sunny D it is I guess. Hey throw a little tequila in there too."

"Very funny."

He thanked her for the glass of OJ as she slid into the seat across from him. They ate in silence. He knew he should say something….comforting? But what? _I'm glad he's dead you should be too?_ Doubtful. So instead of saying the wrong thing, Austin observed his mother in between bites.

His blonde hair came directly from Mimi's Swedish ancestry but, after 4 years of not seeing one another, he noticed hers was a little more gold than he remembered. He wondered for a second if she was into dying these days. She'd always been particular about her appearance and had remained lovely through and past years of verbal abuse. Sometimes Austin thought the make-up was her armor and that if she caked enough on and combined it with the jewelry and the pretty clothes then every harsh word would just bounce off and float away. Now, though, it seemed she was liberated in the wake of her husband's passing. Her face was naked. Her hair looked as though she'd curled it that morning but hours of stress and grief and hot Miami weather wilted every blonde curve. Mimi didn't just look tired, she looked weary. Her fingers curled around a white "Moon's Mattress Kingdom" mug. He watched her take tentative sips and wondered if the absence of a son and the loss of a husband had converted her usual chamomile tea to something stronger. He didn't ask her though. As a matter of fact, neither of them said anything until Austin was already half way through his second plate.

"The house looks pretty good." He finally said after closing Instagram and setting his phone aside.

"Hm?" her blue eyes suddenly looked up from the thin slice of chocolate cake gradually diminishing on her plate. "Oh yeah the house." She smiled, "It was all your father's doing. He's been really handy these last few months."

"….Cool." Austin nodded after pausing a moment for her to correct herself. But he could tell by the way her lip suddenly trembled that she couldn't change ' _He's been'_ to ' _He was_ ' even if she wanted to. He was sure now that he should say something to console his mom but the correct words still escaped him, especially with coke driving full speed ahead through his body. So he looked away and surveyed the kitchen. Though the cabinetry, floors, and a majority of the appliances were untouched, there was a new black Keurig coffee maker squatting by their old "Moon's Mattress Kingdom" cookie jar. Further down the counter sat a new shiny stainless steel microwave. For that he knew she must be supremely grateful. The old one was permanently tinged brown on the inside thanks to an unfortunate popcorn accident and it drove his mom insane. Austin continued to observe the room a little longer, hopefully giving Mimi enough time to reinforce the parts of herself that were crumbling. Once he'd appreciated the new stainless steel dishwasher, his brown eyes slid carefully back to his mother. She was in the middle of another careful sip.

"So…" Austin sighed with a gentle smile and decided to just man up already, "How you holding up Mimi?"

She couldn't help but laugh at the sound of her first name from her only son's lips.

"I'm doing okay I suppose."

"You sure?"

At that she sighed deeply. It started in her shoulders, both of them lifting and relocating her disheveled blonde curls. Air, thick with the scent of spaghetti, rushed into her, filling her lungs from floor to ceiling, expanding her chest. And when she exhaled, there was more than just carbon dioxide leaving her body. Mimi's shoulders sagged and her ribs compressed and her hair seemed to grow duller. But still she managed a soft smile, even as her universe folded in on itself.

"I'll be fine. I promise."

He didn't know if he believed her or not. But maybe if they both pretended what she said was true then Austin would be able to leave her again tomorrow morning without the weight of guilt breaking his back.

"Is everything all set for tomorrow?"

"Um yeah the wake is from 11 to 2. I figure that's when most people in the neighborhood will be on lunch break or something. And the last thing I need to do for the funeral Saturday is um iron my dress I suppose."

Here she released a tragic bark of laughter and gently rubbed her right temple.

"Did Aunt Diane help?"

"Oh Di was a lifesaver. I guess it does pay to have a funeral director in the family."

"Guess so." Austin nodded and then, after a moment's pause, frowned, "Did you just say that the _wake_ is tomorrow?"

"Remember that's what I told you on the phone."

"Aw shit!"

"Language!"

"I thought the funeral was tomorrow!? I didn't even know there was going to be a wake!"

"I specifically said the wake was Friday and the funeral Saturday Austin."

He pressed both hands to his face, "Fuuuuuuck. I can't stay here an extra day I have a huge gig. A LOT of huge gigs mom!"

"Oh sweetie you can't miss the funeral!"

"Of course I can't!" Austin threw out his arms and laughed like a maniac, "Of course I can't miss the funeral! They're just the most important shows of my life!"

"I know this is hard for you little prin-"

Austin slammed his fists on the table so viciously that the dishes trembled in fear and Mimi leapt nearly 2 inches in her chair. She sat and stared, with heart hammering, as her son took a deep breath, then another.

"Stop calling me that." His voice was low though he himself was incredibly high.

She nodded, gripping her coffee mug and burying her gaze inside of it. His mom was afraid and, as his burst of rage passed, Austin felt like shit about it. He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed.

"The guys are gonna be so pissed." He mumbled while grabbing his cell and preparing to send a few disappointing texts, "The most important shows of my life but my asshole of a father dies just to fuck me over one last time."

"Austin Monica you watch your mouth!" Mimi's blue eyes blazed, "Your father worked hard and took care of his family!"

"Took CARE of this family!?" his face twisted in confusion.

Her eyes grew teary, "When you left he was so sad, he missed you so much-"

"Yeah I bet he did. No more Austin to beat the shit out of."

"Don't you dare!"

"NO DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!" Austin shot to his feet, towering over Mimi, "You're not allowed to ignore this anymore mom! He beat the shit out of me almost _every day_! Where the fuck were you huh!?"

He paused, feeling fire ants crawling and biting beneath his skin. The coke kept him calm, except when it didn't.

"' _He missed me so much'_ don't give me that bullshit. He hated me the second I told him I didn't want to work in a fucking mattress store for the rest of my life."

"Austin he just wanted his son to take over the family b-"

"Well you know what too fucking bad! Life isn't fair, that's the only thing that piece of shit ever taught me!"

"Stop it right now!" Mimi rose from her seat with flushed face and streaming tears, "You'd better have some respect for the dead in this house!"

"Oh I do though mom." Austin said, suddenly grinning, "I respect the hell out of him for dying and making the world a better place. Bravo Mike!" he applauded sarcastically.

"That's a horrible thing to say." Mimi stormed out of the kitchen like a petulant teenager. Austin followed her, clapping louder as she ran towards the master bedroom.

"Bravo! Encore, encore please! Die a-fucking-gain!"

They didn't speak for the rest of the night.

The next morning, before either of them were even showered or dressed, Austin walked up behind Mimi as she washed the spaghetti-crusted dishes and wrapped her in a hug. She pressed her back into his chest and gripped his forearms for dear life. They remained that way for almost a full minute. And when he released her and she turned to him with a smile, he knew she'd forgiven him even though he could never truly forgive her.

The wake was his own personal hell. After flying a little off the handle the previous night, Austin had decided to forego the 2 white lines he sometimes snorted with breakfast. And now as he stood in the cool funeral home, there was supreme discomfort closing in on him and invading his body.

He was totally unprepared for the occasion, having only brought a suit he borrowed from Gavin, a couple extra pairs of undies, and his rock and roll attire for the festival. Not wanting to potentially sweat his balls off in the suit and have to rush to get it cleaned by tomorrow, Austin was forced to dig into the suitcase he'd packed for Atlanta. Unfortunately though, One Hundred Amps was decidedly informal. His mom frowned when he met her in the living room in some faded black skinny jeans, a plain white muscle tee and black leather jacket.

"What?" he'd spun around in his dirty grey Converse with a smile, "You don't like my outfit?"

Mimi had just rolled her eyes and headed for the front door, mumbling something about haircuts and ' _not proper attire at all_ '.

They arrived at the funeral home around 10:20am to make sure everything was all squared away. It was an open-casket affair but Mimi remained surprisingly calm as they adjusted the flowers and set up the registry book. Relatives started to filter in and he was bombarded with ' _So sorry about your father Austin_ ' and ' _We haven't seen in you so long, you've grown so much_ '. He got caught up in a whirlwind of lingering hugs and sweaty handshakes and words of comfort that he didn't even need. By 10:55 he'd successfully weaseled out of an awkward conversation with some 2nd cousin and was hiding in the least populated area of the funeral home. No one wanted to venture anywhere near the casket before they had to and Austin found himself alone with his father for the first time in 7 years. It was severely creepy seeing such an abusive man so still, so quiet.

His face was ashen. Death had given his skin a waxy texture and the mortician, in an effort to bring in some artificial life, caked on layers of powdery make up. Austin had never seen a dead body outside of the gory horror movies he loved so much. He'd expected his dad to appear fast asleep, still in a suit like he'd forgotten to change into his pajamas. But there was an emptiness that films couldn't necessarily capture. Austin wasn't an idiot, he knew that everything physical remained within his father's body. Sure the vasculature was full of embalming fluid instead of blood and the bones were all packed with useless marrow and the nerves were completely dormant, but they were still there. It was all the truly _important_ things that were missing: vitality, presence, soul. Mike Moon, formerly the mattress king, was now a fleshy vessel without purpose.

Austin reached out and touched the impossibly pale knuckles of his late father with a sick sort of curiosity. And suddenly, to his utter horror, there were tears, burning and unmistakable, quickly gathering just behind his eyeballs. He tore his hand away as if it'd been scalded.

"No way." The blonde whispered, staring at his dead dad and stuffing his hands in his pockets, "No fucking way am I gonna give you the goddamn satisfaction."

But the tears were still there, waiting to resurface with a stinging vigor after every defiant blink. He stepped away from the casket but not before a powerful kind of agony began to creep into his chest. Austin's breathing grew irregular.

"Fuck you." He whispered between clenched teeth, wanting desperately to feed off of that hatred. But the type of pain he was feeling had been around since the beginning of time, had touched the lives of so many mourning people and persisted across eons. He needed to get out of there. He needed to sprint from the funeral home, from the city, from the whole state. He needed to push Roxy, 90mph with all the windows down, nonstop to Atlanta. But then his mom was clicking over in her black pumps, taking a gentle hold of his arm, and guiding him to stand beside her by the casket. His Aunt Diane, being Mike's only sister, took her spot next to Austin. It was 11:10 am and people were showing up and it was all at once too late to escape. He could barely breathe. He wanted so badly to press his hand to his chest to possibly soothe however much of that ache he could. He wanted to look up to the ceiling and blink those damn tears away forever. But he refused to show any signs of sadness, he would never admit to missing the asshole lying dead as a doornail beside his mother. So he fought against himself, against emotions that were huge and involuntary. He fought for an hour and a half as he and his relatives fielded condolences from the Mattress Kingdom employees and various people of the neighborhood. For an hour and a half he didn't even truly see the array of faces or hear their well-wishing words because there was acid beneath his eyeballs and sheer anguish gripping his lungs and heart and he needed every ounce of concentration to keep it all at bay. Until…

"I'm so very sorry for your loss."

And immediately there was something else for his mind to concentrate on. There was no glass window muffling her voice this time but Austin recognized it anyway.

He watched her clasp his Aunt's hands in her own. They were the same tiny fingers that had clutched a steering wheel tight enough for her knuckles to flush paper white, except now her nails were painted. Those ten pops of mint green were the most colorful parts of her entire look. In her all black mid-thigh t-shirt dress, black ankle boots, and black and white striped infinity scarf, she seemed already dressed for the funeral. She was smiling softly at something Diane was saying and he marveled at how different her face appeared without that haunting look of devastation.

"Of course." She replied to whatever his aunt had said, "Mr. Moon was always a very nice man."

And even that pure bullshit spilling from her pink lips didn't diminish their loveliness. She had a gently sloping nose, he noticed, that fit her face well. And, Jesus Christ, those eyes, now suddenly leaving Diane and turning to him. Austin barely gave Mr. Cooper, general manager of Moon's Mattress Kingdom, who was currently shaking his hand a second glance as the guy moved on to his mother and the mystery girl approached.

She remembered him right away. He could tell as her eyes landed on him then blinked in slight surprise. But she recovered quickly and reached for his hand. He was staring. Her ombre hair was chocolate brown at the roots, honey blond at the ends, and pinned in an easy updo with a few very loose hanging curls framing her face.

"I'm so sorry about your dad." She said in a voice tender with genuine sympathy. Her hand was wrapped comfortably in his, despite the anxious sweat of his palm. And those eyes, dark and weathered like old walnut wood, regarded him sadly. But the sadness seemed more a part of her than it should, like she was already unhappy even before "nice" Mr. Moon kicked the bucket. They were wide expressive orbs surrounded by fans of mascara-coated lashes and he found himself wondering, yet again, what could've dulled the light in her pupils.

"Thanks." Austin replied like he was supposed to, "My family really appreciates it."

She offered him a warm smile and he accepted it with a nod. Then she was releasing his hand and moving on to address Mimi. Every bit of terrible reality slammed back into him with potency. There were the tears threatening to pour and the throbbing ache exploding again and again behind his chest.

"So sorry for your loss." Some lady with a lot of the mystery girl's features gave him a look full to bursting with pity. He figured she was the mom.

"Thanks."

She moved on. His eyes followed after the owner of the red VW Bug. Now done giving her condolences to the immediate family, she joined the rapidly growing crowd of people mingling in the space.

"Sorry about your father. Mike was a great guy." Some man was suddenly before him, shaking Austin's hand, "He even gave my wife and I a discount on a wonderful mattress when we first moved here a couple of years back." The guy gestured to Beetle girl's mom. So this was the dad.

"Yeah, he sold mattresses." Austin replied lamely, his voice cracking. _He sold mattresses and he hated me and I might not want him to be dead._

"He was a great salesman and an all-around great guy." The older man smiled.

Austin nodded, afraid to speak and have his vocal cords nearly expose him again. He looked out into the crowd once more for a flash of stripes or honey tips. But then there was another person in front of him, touching him, and telling him just how deeply sorry they were. It went on and on like this, sad people smiling and interrupting his search for the mysterious brunette, for another half hour before Austin silently broke.

"I'll be back." He mumbled to Mimi without even looking at her and was already disappearing into the small party before she could even reply.

He moved as quickly as he could toward the glowing red exit sign without bowling people over. Thoughts of Beetle girl faded away as his father's voice filled his entire skull. Austin could hear the arguments, the disappointment and anger of Mike's voice echoing off of all his damaged places. He could feel every bruise, painful and sensitive, marring his skin and molding him violently into this 23 year old fragmented human being. It didn't matter where the exit led, his hands slammed into the crash bar, pushing the door open with the urgency of a man suffocating. And once he was outside, bathed in sunlight and fresh air, Austin pressed his hands to his knees and panted. Each new gulp of oxygen slowly, very slowly, released the vice of his ribcage.

"Fuck!" he barked to no one in particular. It felt kind of good to make noise, any noise. So he did it again, sending profanity up into the blue sky.

He was in a wide alleyway behind the funeral home. The exit door opened right next to a big green dumpster around which sat 5 or 6 old wooden pallets. It smelled like shit but Austin wouldn't trade the privacy for a million dollar record deal.

He straightened up and took a few tentative steps towards the opposite wall, still panting. He remembered everything that bastard had put him through. _Everything._ Through his most formative years he lived in constant, unending fear of his dad. And then a bunch of people show up and tell him how Mike Moon was such a fucking 'great guy'. Austin grabbed one of the pallets and threw it with every single ounce of strength he could muster. It hurt having all of his muscles tense and his adrenaline surge like a raging river. But God did it feel good to watch the wooden structure explode against the alley wall. It was almost euphoric to just completely destroy something, like 2 little white lines for his soul. Sweat beaded on his brow as the pleasurable relief seeped into him. He sighed. The tears receded. His breathing became a little slower but still not quite normal.

Austin wasn't a smoker. He didn't buy cigs or crave nicotine. But sometimes, like now, when he absolutely needed SOMETHING, this legal drug would do. He'd bummed a pair of cigarettes off of Ansley before she'd left his room, just in case. And knowing he was about to tackle another Dad-heavy day in Miami without some fresh powder, Austin had stuffed both Marlboros and a lighter into his jacket pockets that morning. Reaching into them now and feeling the smooth paper and the weighted plastic instantly sent calming hormones reaching across his brain. The sensation intensified as he placed the cigarette between his lips. And when he lit it and took that very first drag, a deep sigh released grey wisps of smoke up to dance with the foul words he'd screamed moments before.

There was no denying the pain in his chest. A hole he didn't want or deserve was quickly eating a permanent niche in Austin's heart. He was fucking grieving over Mike Moon's untimely passing. But oh well, he flicked some ashes and planted the cigarette back in his mouth. It was nothing a couple of dates with Mary Jane and a few mounds of nose candy couldn't fix.

Austin took off his leather jacket, tossing it to the ground and standing there in his white sleeveless tee. He was running a hand over his umbrella tattoo when the hairs on the back of his neck stood fully erect. He whirled around and was surprised to find a pair of widened brown eyes. Actually, he wasn't that surprised. He was drawn to this mystery girl after all, first by bright red brake lights and then, unknowingly, through the peaceful glow of the exit sign. She was frozen, standing just a few feet away as they stared at each other. Austin's eyes drug down her bare legs as he silently took another puff of his cigarette.

"Uuuhh….." her mouth hung open as an adorable pink blush bloomed in her cheeks, "I-I'm sorry I was just- I was getting some fresh air." she gestured to a small set of stairs a little further down the alley that she must've been sitting on, "I really didn't think anyone else would come out here um…I figured you probably want to be alone so I was just heading back inside."

Her boots crunched on the gritty ground as she drew closer to the same door he'd just come bursting out of.

"No!" it came out much much louder than he wanted it to so he ran a hand through his hair and tried to ignore the agony within him, "I mean you can stay out here. I'm almost done with this."

He held the cigarette up for her to see but she shook her head.

"It's okay I'll give you some privacy."

And maybe privacy was what he wanted before, but now he just desired some alone time with Beetle girl.

"Really. I don't mind." He gestured back toward the stairs. She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with his insistence. He watched her grow more and more agitated with each passing second. She chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip while her hands gripped a small brown book with a pen tucked into it.

"Uh okay."

She quickly walked back to the concrete steps and sat down, removing her black crossbody purse and setting it beside her in the process. Austin tried to watch her without being a creep. The minty green of her fingernails popped in that grey place, flashing brightly as she opened the book on her lap. With the clicking of the pen, her shoulders seemed to relax a little bit. He liked looking at her, his mind reveled in the mystery because wondering what she was writing and seeing that 2-toned hair form a curtain against her pale skin was more satisfying than the cigarette. He picked up his jacket and approached her before even consciously deciding to do so.

"Mind if I sit with you?" Austin asked as he slowly drew nearer, not wanting to startle her.

She looked up warily and it occurred to him that his big dramatic 'Hulk SMASH' moment had probably scared her. But despite her obvious reluctance, she picked up her bag and scooted over to the other end of the step. _You're a people pleaser huh?_ But he went ahead and took advantage of that, sitting on the step below her to compensate for their large height difference. He tried to subtly steal a glimpse at her book but she was holding the side closest to him up, creating a privacy barrier. Touché Beetle girl.

"I'm Austin." He gently cracked the silence.

She paused, her eyes flickering to his face then his cigarette.

"Um those things'll kill you you know."

"Yeah no shit." He grinned at her, "And great job bringing up death to the guy whose dad is the lifeless lump of flesh in there. Cheers."

He didn't think it was possible for a human to blush so hard without melting from the heat.

"OH MY GOD! I am so so sorry!" her wide eyes had tripled in size, looking like big volleyballs bulging from her reddened face, "I wasn't thinking at all I'm really sorry God I say stupid things sometimes."

Austin chuckled, "Relax alright I'm just messing with you."

"Geez!" she whispered to herself, covering most of her face with one hand.

He laughed a little harder and tried to grab her wrist, "Hey come on don't-"

She jerked away the second Austin's fingertips brushed the fine hairs of her skin.

 _What the fuck?_

Both of them somewhat startled, an awkward silence settled all too quickly. She wrung her hands and avoided his gaze.

"What's your name?" he asked gently, taking another cancerous puff.

She bit her lip and nodded towards the wooden fragments near the dumpster, "Did that help?"

That was twice now that she'd eluded introducing herself. Austin didn't push it, but he also didn't forget.

"A little." He admitted, studying the angry red marks across his palms as the cigarette dangled from his lips, "When stuff breaks you, sometimes it's nice to break stuff back."

"That makes sense." She muttered more to herself than anything.

"What're you writing?"

She closed the book, "Uh nothing."

"Dear Diary," Austin slipped into his best girly voice, "OH EM GEE so you remember that hot blonde guy that knocked on my car window yesterday? Well I just saw him AGAIN today! He's totes amazeballs!"

Another shade of pink spread over her cheeks as she giggled, "Oh gosh yea sorry about that too. I just- I kind of zoned out I guess. I hope I didn't make you late for something…?"

"Uh no." he realized she still thought he was some pissed off driver. "I was just wondering why we were sitting at a stop sign for ten minutes."

"I don't think I've ever been embarrassed this many times in such a short interval." She smiled despite the darkening magenta of her skin.

"Don't sweat it Lila."

"Lila?" she frowned at him as he pulled smoke into his lungs.

He exhaled, "Heather?"

And once she caught on to what he was doing, the girl grinned for the first time. Austin's already sore heart thudded painfully.

"Ashley? Juno? Beyonce?...Hermione?"

She laughed, "Wow really?"

He just shrugged, "Worth a shot."

"That's an interesting tattoo." She pointed to his upper arm. He glanced down at the umbrella then back at her with a confident smirk.

"You think that's interesting check this out."

Austin lifted the right side of his shirt, revealing his ribs. Tattooed there across the bones was an old blue cartoon-like mattress slumped over as if tossed in a corner and complete with a protruding spring and mystery stains. But what made it even more 'interesting' were the knives, approximately 12 of them, stabbed into it and exposing the stuffing.

Her dark eyebrows rose high on her forehead, "Wow."

"You like? Got it when I was 17."

"So I'm guessing you're not a huge fan of Moon's Mattress Kingdom then?"

His eyes narrowed, "Are you psychic?"

She smiled and he liked it.

"So what about you No-name? Got any tattoos?"

"No-name? Really?"

"Well you won't tell me your name so what else am I supposed to call you?" Austin took another deep puff of his cigarette and waited.

She bit her lip, "So what's the umbrella about?"

He laughed loudly, blowing clouds as she completely hurdled over his question yet again.

"Okay so I used to have what Google calls _velumiphobia_. You know what that is?"

She shook her head no.

"An irrational fear of umbrellas."

A giggle escaped her before she immediately slapped her hand across her mouth and looked at him with widened eyes, "Oh my God I am so sorry I did NOT mean to laugh!"

He grinned, "No it's cool. It's silly I know. It started when I was like 6 or 7 I think and it became this deep-rooted fear of something that was so harmless and commonplace, I mean 'irrational' is in the fucking definition and I was too ashamed to ever tell anyone so for 14 years I just lived with it. It was embarrassing and inconvenient but umbrellas are pretty easy to avoid believe it or not. The fear wasn't ruining my life or hindering me from accomplishing things but one day, I'm still not completely sure why, I was just…" He paused to search for a better word but failed, "just tired of being afraid and of something stupid like umbrellas. So I started to force myself to be around them whenever I could. And for a long time it was torture. Just being within a few feet of one and an icy cold sweat would pour, and I mean _pour_ , from my forehead and my heart would beat so hard and so fast that my chest would ache for hours afterwards. The first time I actually built up enough courage to touch one I bit my lip so hard that it bled. But afterwards I was grinning like a maniac anyway because that's what victory tasted like you know, metallic and warm and wonderfully painful. It took me working almost every day for 10 months but I finally conquered my fear and the day that I could hold an umbrella without having any kind of reaction, I got this," he gestured to his upper arm, "to commemorate."

She was grinning again, "That's very admirable Austin. Now I really feel like a jerk for laughing."

He smiled around the cigarette, enjoying the sound of his name from her lips. He wanted to hear more from her, more about her and, being a generally impatient person, he spoke up.

"So MUNY huh?"

She looked _horrified_ , "H-how did you-?"

He gestured to the pen she'd been twirling in her fingers. It was fat and yellow with the Music University of New York logo printed in red. She quickly stuffed it in her bag with a scoff of disappointment.

"That's right I know something about you nooooow." He wiggled his eyebrows but she didn't smile this time, "So are you on Spring Break or what?"

"No."

"Okaaaay…" he replied, wanting her to elaborate.

She paused, "How old are you?"

"23. How old are you?"

"So have you already graduated?"

"Nope. Can't graduate if you don't go."

"You didn't want to go to college?"

"That and they kind of require a high school diploma first so…"

Here her eyes widened, "You didn't finish high school!?"

Austin raised an eyebrow and her face flushed.

"I'm sorry that came out wrong."

"Yeah whatever." He puckered his lips and pushed a cone of smoke before them both, "I never finished high school."

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't feel like it. Is that alright with you?"

He was a little offended and maybe even somewhat embarrassed, though he'd never felt that way before when asked about his education.

She looked down at her book then back up at him, "I'm sorry I reacted that way. It's just that I was always taught that you either get your diploma or end up on the street living in a cardboard box somewhere."

He smirked, "Well a shitty 4-bedroom apartment with faulty AC and an evil cat named Turkey isn't much better than a cardboard box so…stay in school." Austin pointed at her and she giggled.

They lapsed into a silence that was far more comfortable than before. He twiddled the cigarette between his fingers, watching tiny wisps of smoke rise from its glowing tip. She stared down at the cover of her book, an intense mental debate waging in that brunette head. Then finally, with a slow deep breath, she whispered.

"Allyson."

"Hm?" he asked even though he heard her perfectly fine the first time.

"My name's Allyson. Well…Ally."

"Ally." He liked the way it felt just coming together in his windpipe and perching on his tongue like a canary before taking flight. _Ally_. It was the password to gaining her attention, to unlocking her identity.

"Hmmm…" he pretended to think for a moment, "I might like No-name better."

She rolled her eyes, "Much more interesting than Allyson I guess."

"How old are you _Ally_?" he asked, wanting to keep the momentum going.

This time when she paused it was shorter and the silence felt lighter.

"20."

"Wow. When's your birthday?"

She pulled her lips in and stared at her boots.

He grinned, "Oh come on don't clam up on me now."

Ally peeked up at him through her lashes.

"….It's this Tuesday." Her voice had gone soft, like it seemed to do each time she revealed something about herself.

"Are you shitting me? Any plans? And, if so, please tell me they involve getting wasted beyond belief."

"No plans at all. Unless you count Netflix and an entire tub of fruity mint swirl ice cream."

"That doesn't count and it never will."

She giggled, "Sounds like a good time to me."

"Ally you _have_ to get fucked up on your 21st or you'll regret it forever and ever."

"Is that so?"

"It's like an unwritten law. What, none of your music school friends are willing to fly down and take you out?"

She scoffed, suddenly a little more serious, "What friends?"

"Are you telling me it's not all sunshine and rainbows and High School Musical up there?" he joked.

But she was back to studying her boots and saying nothing. His brown eyes took in the thin gold bracelet on her wrist.

"Well either way," Austin attempted to steer the conversation back on track, "the point is that you have to go out and get shit-faced."

She smirked, "On a Tuesday night?"

He shrugged, "Well yeah this isn't prohibition Ally, they don't stop selling drinks just because it's not Friday. Plus this is Miami. Even a slow night can be a wild night."

"Well I'm not much of a drinker anyway so..."

"Are you fucking kidding me? How come?"

"Well first of all it's ILLEGAL at my age."

"Jesus Christ do you know how long I've been drinking? On my 16th birthday I shot gunned beers til I was puking my stomach inside out." He took another casual puff of the Marlboro.

"Do you always curse so much?"

"Why? Does my language offend you madam Ally?"

"It just seems so abrasive and unnecessary."

"You sound like my mom."

"Maybe we both just want you to speak like a decent human being?"

"Ha ha ha." He smiled, suddenly wondering what her last name was.

"Are the two of you close?" she asked.

"We're the opposite of close actually."

"Why is that? Mimi seems really nice."

"Yeah well that's the problem." He mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"You sure do ask a hell of a lot of questions."

His tone wasn't angry or annoyed. It was really just a kind of casual observation but still she was caught slightly off guard, her mouth moving to speak but no sound coming forth. Again there was the color of carnations spreading over her cheekbones.

"You're right I-I'm sorry." She started stuffing her book in her black purse, "I should probably go anyway my parents are probably looking for me."

"You sure you don't want to ask me anything else?" he teased, finding some enjoyment in making her blush.

Ally stood up and was down the steps and halfway to the door when she stopped and turned back to him. Their eyes met, his milk chocolate and full of something that shattered a long time ago and hers dark with a secret pain.

"Sorry again about your dad Austin." Her lips pulled at one corner, attempting a sympathetic smile.

He gave her a nod as that hole in his heart gained fathoms and fathoms he could never fill. And with that, she went back inside, the door closing gently behind her. Austin sat there for a while longer, eventually finishing both cigarettes.

 **Thanks so much for the reviews everyone. Please keep them coming! This story is much slower than the stuff I usually write and I'd love to know what you think.**


	3. Chapter 3

**_"_** ** _No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony."_**

He remained outside with his eyes closed, slathered in Florida heat until the silence around him transitioned from peaceful to eerie. Austin stood and pulled his leather jacket back on, his gaze lingering on the wooden rubble he'd created in a rage that now seemed almost dreamlike. His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out and looking at the screen, Austin saw a list of notifications so long he had to scroll. Each of his bandmates had called, including Tucker. And, when they received no answer, Dez and Jace sent 2 texts each. The most recent was a simple " _Where are you?"_ from Flesh  & Bone's brunette drummer. Austin sighed, mumbling his 2nd favorite cuss word under his breath before locking the phone and stuffing it back in his pocket. He'd text them the shitty news later, when he was sure they were too busy rocking out on stage to reply.

Cool air enveloped him as he reentered the funeral home. But Austin couldn't relish the feeling because there were 30+ pairs of eyes stuck to him immediately. They were all seated in metal folding chairs and facing towards his right. Up front, Mimi and Diane stood at a podium between the hushed crowd and Mike's open casket. He'd opened the exit door and let in the sunlight and, apparently, interrupted whatever the women were saying. He carefully started to back out the way he came in but-

"Oh Austin come on up here honey." His mom's expression softened considerably as she reached out to him. _Fuuuck no._

He shook his head as subtly as possible, even making the "cut" motion, turning his hand at the wrist and slicing the air beneath his chin with his fingertips.

"Austin." Diane spoke a little firmer, looking that much scarier with mascara running down her cheeks.

Jaw clenched and eyes rolling, he reluctantly shuffled over to the grieving women and stood next to his mom. She gave him a tiny grateful smile, her hand resting gently on his arm. When Austin returned home the first time at 19, he'd been about the same height as Mimi. But, 4 more years apart, and suddenly he was at least 5 inches taller than her. And where she used to grasp his shoulder lovingly, now her fingers rested at a more comfortable distance on his elbow. He returned her smile weakly before facing their sympathetic guests. Being the frontman for a pretty successful band back in Virginia had given him plenty of experience playing in front of crowds and making the kind of eye contact to keep them all enthralled. But standing up there before a large handful of people who actually liked his dad so much that they were sad he was done living was something else entirely. These people weren't there to hear him sing or toss their panties at him or watch his fingers tame a guitar. No they wanted to look at him with those pity eyes and those pity smiles and tell him nice things about a guy none of them truly ever knew. And Austin could still feel the man of the hour himself, lying cold and grey and motionless behind him, somehow smiling smugly from his pine box.

"Um as I was saying. We wanted to thank you all for coming…" Mimi continued with a voice that trembled.

Austin's brown eyes scanned the clueless audience for _her_. But after accidentally making eye contact with like 4 different people, he gave up looking for that blushing face or that guarded gaze. She was gone and so were her parents.

"Austin would you like to say anything?" his mom, and everyone else, was suddenly looking at him expectantly.

"Uh no not really." he replied without hesitation, lacking the patience or the energy needed to pretend like he wanted to be there. His hands buried themselves in his pockets. Mrs. Moon cleared her throat.

"Thanks again everyone. The service will start at 9am at Saint Gabriel's."

Austin turned his head as a soft creaking sounded behind him. Some of the funeral home employees were gently closing his father's casket. He stared intently as they began rolling it away, probably back to the mortuary fridge. His mom sighing tore his eyes away.

"Well," she rubbed her temple then smoothed her blond curls, "Let's start taking those to the car and maybe we'll be done by sundown."

One of her red acrylic nail pointed towards the back of the wake room. Behind all of the people collecting their things and vacating the space, Austin spotted a rectangular table covered in various foil covered dishes.

"Fan-fucking-tastic."

"Language!"

It took the 4 of them, him, Mimi, Diane, and Mr. Cooper, a total of 6 trips to get every sympathy casserole, pity pie, and condolence cobbler loaded in his mom's Nissan Rogue. His Aunt followed them back to the house and, after helping unpack their meals and cram them in the refrigerator, sat down with Mimi to discuss tomorrow's ceremony. But judging by the way Diane's eyes began to glisten as the last glass dish was shelved, Austin figured there'd be more teary-eyed consoling than actual event planning. Wanting absolutely no part in that shit, he cut himself a gigantic slice of blueberry pie and high-tailed it down the hall.

His room was stuck in time, frozen somewhere in 2008 and dripping with his own immaturity. As a 16 year old he liked 3 things: pancakes, girls, and music. Though that hadn't changed in the past 7 years, he was no longer inclined to tape pictures of bikini models or his favorite musicians all over the walls. Most of the women he'd spent his late nights staring up at and slowly, experimentally stroking himself to, were probably soccer moms by now, their perfect bodies misshapen by time and life. As Austin plopped down in his desk chair, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at an old Kanye West poster near his closet door, still disappointed that one of his former favorites had, in his opinion, gone downhill musically in the past few years.

"808's and Heartbreaks." He mumbled disapprovingly, shaking his head and turning on his Mac laptop at the same time. He immediately went to the One Hundred Amps website and started clicking around. There were already a ton of photos posted of wannabe Coachella girls in feather headdresses and fringe everything. And even more prominent were the band pictures of sweaty, open-mouthed musicians mid-song, rocking the crowd's collective faces off. Austin shoveled a forkful of blueberry pie in his mouth and typed "Flesh & Bone" in the search bar. Their first show of the entire festival wouldn't be happening for another 10 or so minutes but still there was a significant amount of material available. In addition to a short little band bio, there were candid pics of his friends at the festival, uploaded directly from their respective Instagrams. They looked happy as hell and Austin couldn't help but laugh around his fork and accidentally spew pie crumbs all over his keyboard. Of course they were acting like idiots out of their minds with excitement. One Hundred Amps was like a congregation of likeminded individuals, a place for both the struggling artist and the established performer to meet and associate on a musical level. The 4 of them thrived in that kind of environment, surrounded by expertly played instruments and throbbing melodies, lyrical geniuses putting the perfect word to the perfect note, screaming and drinking and head banging all completely unabashed. It was rock and fucking roll.

And he was missing it.

Austin choked down another big chunk of pie and grabbed his phone. It was 3:05 and the guys would be playing the very first notes of their very first performance there. He took a breath, savoring the sweetness of the blueberries, before typing quickly.

 _Funeral's not til tomorrow. Staying til then_

And then, as he stared at the green message sitting dormant in their group text, he hastily sent another…

 _Sorry_

…as if that would soften the blow. God he felt like a teenage girl, all nervous about texts and eating her sadness away. Still, Austin looked at the Instagram photos and found himself gobbling down another forkful of dough and sugar. Tucker, that scrawny bastard, would be standing in his spot, singing _his_ part. He kept on eating and kept on scrolling. And when the pie was gone but his bitter thoughts weren't, Austin blazed.

The smell was pungent and so so so sweet. He was lying on his bed, the laptop abandoned, the frustration forgotten. Another muddy green cloud left his lips and spread over the ceiling, but Austin was way past caring if the ladies in the kitchen could smell what he was up to. He hadn't even bothered to crack a window. By this time tomorrow he'd be rushing up the interstate, Roxanne carrying him to the promise land. That made him smile. Tomorrow.

"Just like fucking Annie." He chuckled to the empty room. Tomorrow he'd be in Atlanta with his friends and playing his guitar. Tomorrow, right after they bury his father. Tomorrow they'd lower that motherfucker down there into the darkness and that's where he'd stay.

"Fingers running through the dust…" Austin softly sang to himself as that familiar pain built beneath his ribcage, "Scraping at the auburn crust..."

He and Dez had written it one day in Virginia when the sky was grey and the beach was deserted and the ginger's older sister had just died 2 weeks prior. His best freckled friend was thinking about DiDi as they stared out into the cobalt blue of the ocean and strummed impromptu melodies. It was all melodramatic as shit but when Dez murmured something about the cancer 'crawling and corroding', suddenly they had the first 7 lines written plus a title: "Rust".

"Decaying slow, the year clings..." He paused to take one final drag from the joint, allowing smoke to creep up and out, "The world is full of rusty things."

A haze settled in his room and in his mind. Austin welcomed it openly. He wanted the gossamer curtain to close over him and distort the images of his father's chalky skin. He wanted the relaxing buzz of his nervous system to dissipate the ache that gnawed at his center. The blonde closed his eyes and took a deep breath and dove gingerly into unconsciousness.

When Austin woke up, the room was dark and his phone was vibrating. His eyes clawed lazily at the blackness, searching for silhouettes and light. The residual THC lining his veins made his limbs feel heavy and warm. He really didn't want to move. He even considered drifting back to sleep but his cell was buzzing like an angry wasp and he already had a good idea of who was on the other end waiting to sting. So, with as little movement as possible, he reached into his jacket pocket. It was 7:13 pm and Jace was calling.

"Yeah?" he rasped.

"Dude where the fuck are you!?" the combination skateboarder and drummer demanded. Austin could hear a tv and the hushed rumblings of his other bandmates clearly in the background and guessed he was on speaker phone.

He made a sound that was half sigh, half yawn, and fully not in the mood, "Jace-"

"Are you seriously still in Miami right now?!"

"You got the text didn't you?" He replied, already bristling at J's aggressive tone.

"Yeah we got your bullshit te-!"

"Well then you already know I'm still in fucking Miami don't you!?"

"Whoa whoa both of you take it easy." Suddenly Dez's voice interrupted and Jace was sent to cuss in the background, "Let's not get all Godzilla versus King Kong alright. Austin?"

"Yeah Dez." he sighed.

"What happened man?" his voice was more curious than anything.

"My fuc-" the blonde took a second to breathe and calm down, "My mom changed the plans around. We ended up having a wake today and now the funeral's tomorrow."

"Thaaat's not good."

"I know Dez I know." Austin sat up, raking a hand through his already disheveled hair and finally addressing everyone, "Look I'm really sorry guys. I shouldn't have come here in the first place I know I'm fucking up our chances at OHA."

"Hey can I ask you a quick question?" this time it was Gavin speaking.

He rolled his eyes, "Sure Gav what's up?"

"Um Turkey has had the shits for the past 2 hours, did you give him anything weird to eat before you left?"

"Really dude!?" "Gavin fuck your fucking cat okay?" "Shut the hell up Gav nobody gives a shit right now." The 3 anti-Turkey members of Flesh & Bone shut their clueless 4th down immediately.

"Devil cat probably needs an exorcism." Dez joked in the background, "Turkey, THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!"

"Hey Austin." Jace was back but with less venom, "If you really don't wanna be there then you could leave like right now. Ride the white horse, be here byyyyy….like 5 am or something."

Austin couldn't help but laugh a little, "As much as I'd LOVE to do that, " he began, shuddering at just the thought of such an ungodly hour, "I'm gonna stay for the funeral."

"What for?" he asked, not understanding at all, "What the hell are we supposed to do dude? Me and Dez are decent at best on vocals, Tucker sucks ass, no offense man, and Gavin can't focus because Turkey's shitting all over the place!"

Austin sighed, slowly and deliberately. And when his left hand traveled through his unruly hair again, it stopped at the crown of his head and clenched. He winced as the fistful of blonde strands tugged on his scalp. His patience was already naturally thin, and it finally snapped at the 2nd mention of Gavin's diarrheic cat.

"J gimme a fucking break okay." Flesh & Bone's lead singer and guitarist hissed, "My dad's not even in the ground yet! So cut me some goddamn slack alright?"

"When you left VA you didn't give a shit about your dad! We went out and celebrated the night you found out he died dude!" Jace reminded him, "And now you're leaving us high and dry for the guy?!"

In the background, Dez laughed at the unintentional rhyme.

"How many times do you want me to apologize huh J!? I'm sorry. I'M SORRY! But I can't miss the funeral okay. I just can't."

"Why the hell not!?"

"Okay okay go take a deep breath or something." The red head was suddenly back on the line and shooing Jace away. "Austin?"

"Yeah?" He ran a hand over his face. The background noise had ceased.

"I took you off speaker." He said, "So what time's the funeral?"

"9 in the morning." Austin replied, feeling shittier by the minute, "Dez I'm so sorry for this. We worked so hard to get OHA and now I'm fucking it all up."

"Hey man don't listen to Jace he's wasted and he's being dramatic. We don't completely suck without you. We'll get by until you get here alright."

Austin groaned, "Please don't let anybody mistake Tuck for me okay. I've gotta reputation to protect."

Dez chuckled, "No problem."

There was a silent pause and Austin sighed for the millionth time.

"I can't miss the funeral man. I don't know why I just can't."

"I know."

Another quiet moment then Dez continued.

"All the shows tonight got cancelled anyway. Some kind of mass sound problem or something."

Austin perked up, "So no 10 o'clock set?"

"No 10 o'clock set."

Relief was somehow more blissful than the weed. His shoulders relaxed considerably, violently kicking out the tension he hadn't even realized was there. At least he wouldn't be missing another show.

"So when's the next one anyway?"

"Ours is tomorrow at midnight. You have plenty of time so don't rush."

Austin hated the thought. He hated that he was experiencing grief and that it might overwhelm him tomorrow. He hated that he might actually need the precious minutes and hours meant for Roxy to _process_ loss and to process the pain of loss. He absolutely hated that he didn't have a say in the matter, and that Mike Moon seemed to be calling the shots directly from Hell. But he did appreciate that his best friend was so understanding. The red head had been to this place before, he'd been forcefully hollowed out and left with a missing piece as Didi's soul ascended.

"Thanks Dez." He said, the emptiness in his chest practically echoing.

"No problem man. I'm gonna go try and sober these assholes up."

Austin grinned, "Are you gonna tell Gav that you fed Turkey a turkey sandwich before you guys left for the airport?"

"Eventually perhaps."

"I still don't know why you did that."

"Because…cannibalism?"

"You're a fucking idiot. Bye."

"Adios!"

Austin hung up in the middle of Dez's goofy laugh. Then, grabbing his earbuds and stuffing his wallet in his back pocket, he left the room. The scent of pot was still pretty strong in the hallway and had even crept into the living room where Mimi was stretched out on the couch fast asleep. He tip toed past her, though the tv was turned up loud enough for the sounds of Jeopardy to drown out any creaks in the floorboards. He felt silly sneaking around like a teenager but, after that combative phone conversation, he had negative 3,000 fucks left to give and he'd probably end up shouting at his mom if she woke up and started asking him where he was going or what he was doing. So Austin waited until he was out of the house before even plugging in his headphones and securing them in his ears. He set iTunes on shuffle then began walking as Def Leppard played power chords against his eardrums.

Austin bypassed Roxanne completely. It was a long drive to Atlanta and he didn't want to waste any of the precious gas she still had. He really loved that car, but Roxy was kind of a hunk of junk and she could be a real greedy bitch sometimes, spending more gallons per mile than he'd like. Besides, even after sunset the weather was still comfortably warm enough for walking. He buried his hands in his jacket pockets and crossed the street. He'd taken plenty of late night walks back when he still lived in Miami, usually strolling towards the beach or the boardwalk until the fresh air and the rolling waves and the loud playlists helped him forget. But that night Austin wasn't a bruised and rebellious teenager plotting his escape with furious tears in eyes. He was an adult, broken but confident, looking to leave death and disappointment behind him for a moment. He needed something different, so he took a different route away from the boardwalk. His sneakers scraped the asphalt as he crossed the street and stared down at the spot where he'd vomited just yesterday. It'd been reduced by the heat and the birds from a chunky puddle to a flaking, crusty, ant nirvana. _My insides on the outside, and they swarm what's there._ Austin contemplated writing down the lines that randomly formed in his head as he stood for a moment staring at the red insects. He continued walking but not before quickly saving the short lyrics in his phone's notepad. He thought for a second then added " _ant nirvana?"_ before stuffing his cell in his back pocket. Maybe Dez could make something out of it.

Something by Jackson Lowe started to play when he realized he was going the same way that little VW Bug had gone just yesterday. He hung a right at the 4-way intersection, stepping deeper into the neighborhood. It took him a second or two but the blonde quickly noticed that his eyes were searching for something red. Whether it was the paint of the car or the brake lights or an exit sign, subconsciously he'd tethered that bold color to _her_ ….Ally. The realization weirded him the hell out, but his feet continued forward and his pupils scanned the long residential street before him. Austin chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully, feeling like a creep as his frantic gaze ping ponged between every single flash of red visible: 3 non-Beetle cars, a tricycle abandoned in the grass, rose bushes with their petals wide, and even a disturbing amount of lawn gnomes. It wasn't until Jackson Lowe's song tapered out that he spotted this red hump off in a distant driveway. It was definitely a vehicle and far too rounded to be anything but a VW Bug.

Jimi Hendrix began singing to some foxy lady as Austin's continuous stride carried him down the sidewalk and past the other less significant reds. The sky was already black but the street lights cast an orangeish glow across the neighborhood that somehow emphasized its emptiness. Most of the houses had at least 2 windows glowing bright behind the blinds, its residents awake inside and doing something. Probably eating dinner. Austin hadn't eaten since the blueberry pie, and that weed session had only piqued his appetite. Suddenly all those homemade pity casseroles didn't seem so unappealing. He wondered if Ally and her family had contributed to the Moons' overstuffed refrigerator. The image of her small hands spreading broccoli-cheese surprise into a dark, non-stick pan flickered on in his mind. Her minty green nails wiggled around as she sprinkled crushed Ritz crackers over the top. His stomach growled viciously. He felt like a fucking weirdo.

The Beetle was drawing closer and his pace slowed. He hadn't noticed before that the little car's hubcaps were sporting a red band all the way around, giving the whole vehicle an old-fashioned feel. It was fitting. He stopped and stood there next to Ally's punch buggy, letting his eyes slide up to observe the house. There were at least 2 stories and possibly an attic if the little round window just below the roof was any indication. Their home was all brick façade and navy blue shutters and beautifully flowered landscape that put his little shoebox down the street to shame. All of the windows were dark and he wondered if the whole family really went to sleep that early.

And then suddenly, as Queen harmonized perfectly in his ears, Austin was struck with a random thought so obvious he could hardly believe it hadn't occurred to him much earlier. Maybe it was his father's death that was affecting Ally so deeply. The idea kind of sickened him but it was still entirely plausible. Shit maybe that was why she was bawling her little eyes out yesterday. Mike Moon, the 'very nice man' who'd given her family a discount on their mattresses, had dropped dead out of the blue and perhaps that broke her heart. It was bullshit, but plausible bullshit none the less.

A set of harsh white headlights slammed through his bitter thoughts like a sledgehammer. And of fucking course there was a car pulling into the driveway. His legs tensed, almost breaking into a guilt-ridden sprint, but he stifled the urge. They'd already seen him after all. Nothing left to do but play it cool. The silver Honda Accord came to a halt right behind Ally's red Beetle. The headlights clicked off as the driver killed the engine. For a moment it was dark and quiet and still and Austin seriously contemplated making a run for it again.

"Austin Moon?" Ally's mom was out of the driver's seat and frowning curiously at him over the top of the car.

He removed one of his earbuds and gave one of the most awkward little waves of his life. "Heeeyyy."

"Is everything okay? Do you need something?" she sounded concerned but her brow was still confused. At the same time, Ally's dad and Ally were both emerging from the Honda, him out of the passenger seat, her out of the backseat directly behind him, and both of them staring. Austin tried to concentrate past Twisted Sister's screaming in his left ear and come up with something believable.

"Uh yeah everything's cool I was um just coming by to see if Ally wanted to go on a walk with me."

"Oh." The mom replied hesitantly, looking to her daughter.

The dad remained silent as he also turned towards his little girl, but his expression seemed much less cautious than his wife's. Austin followed suit, gazing at Ally and hoping she'd just go with it. She stared back at him, lips parted in astonishment. It was way past sunset but he could still see a faint pink blossoming in her cheeks like Peonies. He smiled and the pink darkened.

"H-how did you…I mean…" Ally shot a glance at her parents then faced him again, attempting to pull herself together.

"My mom told me you guys' address." He lied quickly, answering the question undoubtedly at the tip of her tongue, "And she said to say thanks for the…dish that you guys brought to the wake today." Austin added smoothly, touching the tips of his pointer and thumb together and giving her parents the 'A-okay' sign, "We just had it for dinner. Very tasty."

Here the dad did fix him with a perplexed look, "You ate Boston Crème Pie for dinner?"

Austin paused, "…Yeeeesss…? SO ANYWAY," he addressed the pretty brunette before her father could respond, "Ally how about that walk?"

"I don't think so I've kind of had a long day and-"

"Oh shit what happened?" Austin pointed, just now noticing the white gauze wrapped around the palm of her right hand. In his periphery he saw her parents stiffen at his language but, really, weren't they all goddamn adults? Jesus Christ.

"Nothing." She hid the bandaged hand behind her back. But he was getting used to her dodging his questions and recovered smoothly.

"Okay well let's go."

"Sorry Austin I can't I have some work that needs to be done and," here she chuckled awkwardly, "it's not gonna do itself you know."

"Allyson." The mom gave her a look, "Austin has had a very difficult day today."

"Yeah that's right!" he hurriedly agreed, pointing an appreciative finger at Mrs. What's-her-name, "Today really sucked for me because my dad's dead and uh I'm all fragile and shit- I mean and stuff." The blonde corrected himself, not wanting to lose this tentative alliance they had going.

"Well," Ally gave him a smile that was almost _too_ cheery, "I'm sorry you're all "fragile and shit"" she made air quotes with just her left hand, ignoring her parents' horrified chastisement, "But I'm busy. Sorry."

Staring directly at him, the wide grin gone and with sarcasm practically falling from the sky, she didn't look very sorry at all.

Austin smirked, eyes tracing her lips then her eyes because he could definitely appreciate his sugar with a pinch of spice. Who was this girl that he'd thought so wholesome but was secretly sort of venomous?

"Ally I don't know what's gotten into you-!" her mom began.

"You know what fine!" she threw her hands in the air, one perfect and one injured, "I'll go on a walk _alone_ , _at night_ with this _strange_ guy that we JUST met for the first time today! Why the hell not?!" Ally turned and started down the sidewalk in the same direction he'd been going.

Austin grinned, intrigued by this newfound fire, "You guys have a good night. Thanks again for the casserole."

"Pie!"

Austin hardly heard Ally's dad as he jogged to catch up with the surprisingly feisty brunette.

"Hey so who pissed in your cornflakes?" he laughed, finally reaching her. She stopped walking and faced him. There, standing directly under one of the streetlights, Austin saw that whatever flames she had, they'd been extinguished just as quickly as they were ignited.

Ally was still wearing the same short-sleeved black dress, the same ankle-hugging booties, and the same striped scarf wrapped around her neck. Her hair, though, was a little messy, the updo slightly sloppier than it'd been earlier, as if she'd undone it then threw it back up in a hurry. And what little makeup she applied for the wake had been washed away, leaving her even softer and somehow just as lovely.

She sighed, her doe eyes full of their inherent sadness, "Austin I'm really sorry for," she gestured in her house's general direction, "whatever that was back there. It was rude and I'm really sorry."

Gone was the sassy side, and here stood that sweet but guarded 20 year old he discovered frozen at a stop sign. And Austin found that he didn't mind that she kept her brashness hidden because just knowing it was there was enough for him.

"Don't sweat it _Allyson_." He teased, "You didn't hurt my feelings too bad."

She rolled her eyes and kept walking, but not without a gentle smile.

"So," he removed his other earbud just as Janis Joplin reached a raspy crescendo and draped the cord around his neck, "what happened to your hand?"

"Nothing…..did you really come here just to go on a walk with me?"

He shrugged, "I'm all fragile and shit."

And her giggle was like music through his headphones. He listened to it with a smile, replaying the melodic lilts after they'd already flown up to the stars.

"Where're you from?" she asked him.

"I live in Virginia Beach. You remember that shitty 4-bedroom apartment with the crap AC and the evil cat I was telling you about?"

"Turkey right?"

"Yeah. I live there with my bandmates."

"You're in a band?"

"Yup." Austin waited for the inevitable follow-up questions.

"What do you play?"

They rounded the corner, following the sidewalk.

"Guitar. Lead vocals."

Her eyebrows rose, "You sing too?"

"Impressed yet?" he smirked.

But Ally seemed anything but, "You do remember that I went to MUNY right? Everybody there sings and plays guitar."

"Does that include you too?"

"What kind of guitar do you have?"

"I have 2. A Fender Tele for when I'm feeling like Springsteen, and a Gibson SG for my inner Frank Zappa. The guys got me the Tele for my birthday a couple of years ago and the Gibson I've had forever. I bought it at a garage sale when I was 13 for like 85 bucks can you believe that? Fucking morons."

"You saw this amazing guitar at a garage sale and just happened to have 85 dollars on hand? At 13?"

"I started working in the mattress store when I was 11 and started saving every penny I got from it after I turned 12."

"Saving up for a guitar?" Ally teased.

"Saving up to run away."

He looked at her as she looked at him.

"Why?"

"Because," Austin paused, running a hand through his floppy blonde hair, "I was miserable."

He expected her to pry, to keep asking until he spilled the beans about his childhood's dark spots. But when he looked at her she was staring at the ground, watching her own boots press the sidewalk.

"So what's the name of your band?"

"Flesh and Bone." He didn't miss a beat, quickly mastering her abrupt subject changes.

Ally nodded, "I like it. I'm assuming you guys are a rock band?"

"See that's why you should never assume things. You make an ass out of yourself."

"I don't think that's how the saying goes."

"We play good ol' down home country YEE-HAW!" Austin tossed his head back and released his fake southern accent into the Miami night.

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a knowing smile, "Seriously?"

"We're a rock band."

"Are you guys any good?"

"Meh." He shrugged, "We're a big deal in Virginia but pretty much nobodies nationally. We did get invited to OHA in Atlanta this year though."

"One Hundred Amps!? Your band is playing there!? That's amazing! But isn't it going on like right now?"

And he found himself grinning because 1, he'd never seen her excited before and 2, he liked a chick who could appreciate rock culture.

"Yeah it just started today. My band was supposed to play 2 shows today but the 10 o'clock was cancelled. Some kind of huge sound problem or something."

"That sucks that you have to miss some of it." And there she was staring at him wide-eyed and covering her mouth again, "I mean it sucks more that your dad di-…passed away I mean…this is more important obviously…"

He was quiet for a moment, then decided to go for it.

"Is that why you were crying yesterday?" Austin asked, looking at her, "Because Mike died?"

"No." her answer was immediate, her gaze fixed forward. Those few minutes in the Beetle where she'd been completely lost to the living world were apparently a very sensitive topic; just the slightest broaching of the subject and she shut down instantly. Austin could practically see her closing in on herself tighter and tighter, so he backed off a bit.

"Are you gonna go to the funeral tomorrow?"

She didn't answer. Her arms were folded across her chest. He had a feeling he'd fucked up and ruined any kind of progress they'd made and that she'd even take back telling him her name if she could. But, despite not being a very patient person, Austin found he could actually tolerate waiting for her because every little bit of herself that she allowed him to know was like a reward waiting on the other end of the silence. They turned the corner, making a right and continuing down the sidewalk. He listened to the slow, clipped click of her boots and the rhythmic scrape of his sneakers, creating a rough beat in their quiet neighborhood.

"My parents and I are going to the funeral yeah." She finally said.

"Can we take another walk afterwards?"

"...I d- well….maybe."

"I can work with maybe." Austin glanced at her, flashing a smile. The blush he was hoping for, a soft cherry red, dusted the bridge of her nose. He played with a loose thread in the lining of his pocket, "So does that mean you didn't go on this walk with me just to shut your parents up?"

"Honestly," Ally unfolded her arms long enough to brush a wayward section of hair out of her face, pale green fingernails looking a little brown in the orange light, "You kind of seemed like you really needed to talk to someone underneath all that," she waved the same non-bandaged hand at him vaguely, "'too cool for school' stuff you were doing. I'll admit I really did NOT want to be that someone but….I figured there had to be a reason you chose me, someone you just met, instead of a family member or something. And plus…I don't know I felt kind of bad."

"Okay first of all, don't EVER say 'too cool for school' ever again." He shook his head as she giggled, "And second,…this is a pity walk?"

She winced, looking up at him reproachfully, "Yeah sorry. But it's not as bad as I thought it'd be."

But Austin didn't mind a pity walk. Not from her anyway. He discovered in the short distance from one corner of the neighborhood to the other that there were a lot of things that didn't seem so awful coming from Ally.

He smirked, "It's cool."

And when she smiled back before lifting her eyes to the indigo sky and searching for stars, Austin realized he'd been correct in thinking her a people pleaser. Maybe earlier in the alley when he prompted her to stay and asked to sit beside her, she had really wanted to sigh in annoyance and roll her eyes and tell this strange blonde to leave her alone. But instead of doing any of that, she'd shown compassion. She'd identified something in his demeanor, something about him that was rapidly unraveling and he was trying so hard to hide, and decided to help. Maybe as he'd pressured her into remaining on the funeral home steps, Ally had wanted so badly to escape him and whatever blackening depths he was plummeting into but her goodwill wouldn't allow her to look into those subconsciously pleading eyes of his and say no. Compassion and goodwill were so NOT the sexy spice and fire he usually sought out, but Austin felt her drawing him in just the same.

They continued in silence for a long while, eventually passing Austin's house and Austin's puke and turning back onto Ally's street.

"So," he finally spoke again, "earlier you said that you 'used' to go to MUNY. What happened?"

Ally closed her eyes and sighed, mentally scolding herself for letting such a simple matter of present versus past tense slip. "How are your mom and aunt doing?" she bit her lip.

"They're not too bad. They tend to lean on each other and leave me alone."

"You don't mind?"

"Hell no." he shook his head, "I'm not good at… _comforting_ people." Austin said the word like it was something gross, "And besides I don't need them, I have you now."

Ally eyed him warily, "I don't know if I like the sound of that."

He smirked, "Tough shit Ally-cat."

She stopped walking, freezing right in the middle of the sidewalk at Austin's words. And when he turned to her, that taunting smile of his fell completely away because, if looks could kill, he'd already be in the fiery depths of the afterlife with Adolf Hitler and Mike Moon.

"Don't ever call me that." The brunette pointed and glared with a deadly seriousness.

"Uh….oookaaay…?"

"Do you fucking hear me Austin!?"

"What the fuck Ally? Yeah I heard you." He put his hands up submissively.

"Don't call me that ever again."

She approached and, for a second, he thought she might try to hit him. But Ally just walked right past, her ombre hair moving gently in the breeze.

"I'm going home. DON'T follow me." She demanded without even looking at him. And his feet, which were just about to move down the sidewalk with her, stopped.

"Okaaaay…. Um Ally for the record you're kinda acting like a fucking lunatic!" he called to her, "Just letting you know as a friend!"  
She ignored him. Austin watched her figure shrink in the distance.

Earlier at the wake, as he sat alone smoking his 2nd cigarette, he'd thought it ironic that she demanded openness from others yet completely clammed up when they did the same of her. And, for some reason, that word had lingered in his mind: _irony_. had defined irony as "the use of words to convey a meaning that is the opposite of its literal meaning" and "an outcome of events contrary to what was, or might have been, expected". To describe Ally as inquisitive would definitely be ironic because every prying question she asked served a dual purpose: ensuring that all the strangers around her revealed themselves while she simultaneously remained invisible. She guarded herself with her own curiosity. It was brilliant and _safe_ and he doubted she was even fully aware she was doing it. But to call her actual _tactics_ ironic would be incorrect because it wasn't contrary to what was expected. She'd been hurt, that much was obvious. And when you're hurt, physically or mentally or emotionally, _especially_ emotionally, you protect yourself so it never ever happens again. That's natural. That's exactly what he'd expect.

 **Thanks again to those that reviewed! It's a little nerve wracking for me every time I share something that I've written so I really and truly appreciate yall for giving me some feedback, and** ** _positive_** **feedback at that! One of the reviews reminded me to ask you guys how you feel about the length of the chapters. I'm not purposefully making them this long it just happens as I write them. Let me know what you think! Also, all lyrics/lines that Austin sings or thinks up in this chapter are my own.**


	4. Chapter 4

**So glad you guys like the length because everyone's kind of a hot mess and my brain doesn't seem to be making the chapters any shorter. For Rainbow who asked if I am a psychologist: Sorry but not even a little bit lol. The whole 'irony' and 'guarding herself with questions' thing was just a concept I thought up and figured might be interesting and also be an accurate response to what Ally's been through. I am oddly very flattered that you'd even ask though so thanks!**

 **Also, to the guest who asked if Ally being innocent meant she was a virgin: Now, I wasn't going to include this in the story because I didn't think it was particularly relevant but since you asked I'll tell you that Ally is not a virgin in this story. Sorry to disappoint. But instead of just leaving it at that, I immediately got an idea for a little mini background story and I couldn't resist so here it is!**

She met a boy named Elliot at Smarty Arty: Arts & Crafts Sleepaway Camp in Rochester, New York when she was just 11 and he was 12. The day he smiled at her for the first time, she'd grabbed a large section of her long brown hair and began to compulsively chew on it, something she'd NEVER done before, until it tangled in her braces and she ran to her bunk and cried from the absolute humiliation. That summer was full of embarrassment and shy peeks across the cabins. 4 years later, after they'd long ago lost touch, Elliot moved from his home in Buffalo to her hometown Albany. And it wasn't until she saw him in the hallway of Martin Van Buren High School, looking all 16 and handsome, that her heart gently exploded and she gnawed viciously at her brunette curls, a habit she thought she'd conquered when she was 13. And Ally realized that there'd been love too in those 3 months of hot glue and basket weaving; young and unrealized, but love just the same. They dated for a year and 2 months before having sex for the first time after the junior prom. It was clumsy and awkward and Ally's zipper got stuck for 5 mortifying minutes but it was also beautiful and painful in the best way. It wasn't until 6 months later that they began to drift apart. Eventually their relationship's only support became memories of camp and the thousands of nervous metal-mouthed smiles they'd shared that magical summer. They broke up in the middle of senior year but the split was both mutual and amicable. Elliot and Ally remained friends even after graduation. He ended up across the country at UCLA, she happily enrolled at MUNY and they kept in touch for 2 years, right up until she dropped out and cut all ties with everybody.

 **On to the story!**

 ** _"_** ** _No 'who cares?', no vacant stares, no time for me"_**

He was still sniffling by the time they arrived at the church, so his grandmother gave him a few tissues and a sympathetic look. But instead of leaning in and whispering _'I'm not crying Gram, I actually just snorted some cocaine this morning and now my nose is bleeding a little bit'_ , Austin just faked his saddest smile and took the wad of tissues.

Pallbearers had already unloaded Mike's casket from the hearse and carried it inside the church. Now the immediate family sat in a limo waiting for their cue to head in. Austin, with drugs already lowering his inhibitions, surveyed the spacious interior and tried not to make a smartass comment. Of the 5 total occupants present, his paternal grandparents were the quietest. For this Austin was extremely grateful because they were 2 critical old bats who were just as disappointed in him as his parents had been. If the sheets of tissue his grandma handed him were a sort of weird peace offering, Austin wasn't sure if blowing snot into them would be considered a grateful acceptance or a disrespectful rejection. Either way, he gently blew his nose then quickly folded and stuffed the tissue in his pocket before anyone could notice the bright red bleeding through. It was unlikely they would anyway. His aunt Diane was too busy trying to fill the somber silence with pointless, uninteresting information about the funeral she'd planned. " _We originally wanted orchids but they're so_ expensive _this time of year we ended up just ordering the lilies but I think they might look even better than the orchids would have."_ And Mimi, not wanting Di to feel ignored, was the only one responding. _"Mike did like lilies. I'm sure he wouldn't mind._ " Austin was rolling his eyes before he could catch himself. Like his dad would've cared what kind of flowers they had at his funeral. He was surprised his father's will didn't request that he be cremated then scattered on the roof of Moon's Mattress Kingdom since he worshipped the fucking place so much.

He looked out of the window, wondering what the hold up was. Granted, the only funeral he'd ever been to was Didi's, but Austin didn't remember Dez and his family taking very long to exit the limo. There were more people filing into Saint Gabriel's than the blonde had expected though, even more so than the wake. Maybe the little church was having trouble accommodating everyone. He watched as another handful of mourners ascended the stone steps and crossed the open threshold. And it wasn't until Diane was discussing the reception and praising the catering company's professionalism that Austin spotted who he was subconsciously searching for.

It was all because of the red yet again, this time in the form of perfectly applied lipstick. That was really all of Ally's front that he could appreciate before she was turning her back to the limo and walking up the church steps with her parents on either side. His eyes immediately trailed down to her ass, the supple curves of which were much more apparent in high-waisted black trousers than yesterday's loose-fitting dress. She was also wearing a wide-brimmed black felt sunhat which he made a mental note to look for once he got inside.

Austin spent a good chunk of his night wondering how in the hell he was going to approach her after that little Ally-cat meltdown. He doubted she'd be up for a walk but he was determined to turn yesterday's "maybe" into today's "yes".

"Everyone ready?" Suddenly one of the ushers was opening the limo door and poking his head inside with a friendly expression. "We're going to have you 5 head in now.

"Why the fuck are you smiling at us?"

Austin was high.

"Austin!" Mimi cried out, utterly mortified, before giving the flustered man a soft smile, "I'm so sorry about that. He's grieving."

The blonde snickered, mumbling "All fragile and shit" to himself in amusement.

"Uh that's all right I understand. Um they're ready for you all now."

He was the last to climb out of the limo. It was uncharacteristically chilly and grey that morning. Austin had checked the weather after his shower and saw that the chance of rain spiked from 20% to 70% around 11am. He'd snorted an extra line in preparation for both his annoying grandparents and also for the potential abundance of umbrellas. He'd lessened his crippling phobia significantly but sometimes, if umbrellas made unexpected appearances or were present in too great a quantity, it made him anxious. Plus he'd seriously regretted not partaking in a little nose candy before the wake yesterday and what was a funeral but a bigger, longer, suckier wake? He'd already seen a majority of the guests carrying umbrellas in and crying and he was already wishing he wasn't there. But he knew he couldn't miss the funeral if he wanted to. It was like he'd told Dez on the phone, Austin didn't know why but he could not miss his asshole father's funeral. He unbuttoned his suit jacket so he could comfortably stuff his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. It was all very ominous. Not just the cinder block grey up above or the oddly low temperature, but the sad attendees not yet in the church but gathered around the entrance and waiting for Mike's closest relatives to pass by. They all stood silent and still, clad in black, watching his little party of 5 with the kind of sorrow that hung in the air despite its great weight. _The poor Moon's, losing Mike so suddenly. The son, Austin, must be feeling really guilty I heard he and Mike stopped speaking years ago._

"Fuck you." He murmured to what he assumed everyone must be thinking.

His black Converse scraped across the threshold, soles brushing the church's red carpeting. _Red_. He searched for Ally. He'd been wrong in thinking Saint Gabriel's would be full to capacity. There were really only slightly more people than there'd been at the wake and only about half of the total space was occupied. It was to his left in the row second from the very back that he found a floppy hat and red lips. She was sitting between her dad and the far end of the pew. Despite the overcast sky outside, there was still enough light filtering through the stained glass window to dust her left cheek baby blue. Their eyes only met for a brief moment but she gave him a small, crooked smile. He returned it, probably a little more enthusiastically than was currently appropriate, before facing the back of his grandpa's head again. Austin wondered if the smile she'd offered him just then was a people pleasing one, only appearing because it was his father's funeral and she felt bad for him. As thoroughly pissed as she'd been last night, he doubted Ally would forgive him so quickly.

The sound of his grandmother sobbing wrenched him from his thoughts. And all at once Austin grew agitated and nervous because the coke kept him calm, except when it didn't. And it wasn't even about the fucking umbrellas anymore. No, his dad was dead, DEAD, and they'd stuffed him in a box and now he was on display and Mimi, the wife, was crying quietly over his still body. A cool sweat beaded rapidly along his hairline. His grandma's rough sobs were ringing in his ears. Was it just him or was she louder than a car horn? His mom moved to the right, taking her seat in the very front pew. Diane stepped up and immediately adjusted something on Mike's suit before staring down at him silently. Then she moved on and Austin's heart was either beating too slowly or too quickly, he couldn't be sure which. He tried to glance back at Ally but now there were people in line behind him and obscuring the view. His grandparents approached together, his grandma gripping the casket, his grandpa gripping her shaking shoulders because people really weren't supposed to outlive their children. Parents weren't supposed to survive their kids and sons weren't supposed to be fatherless at 23 years old. Austin's hand shot out of his pocket and tore through his blonde hair once, twice, three times in almost compulsive movements. Gerald and Tess Moon finally shuffled off to sit with their first born, Diane, and Mike's only child was up to bat. He approached a little quicker than intended, the blow making him slightly jittery. Maybe because he'd taken more than usual. He sniffled, but not from a mild nosebleed.

"Christ dad." He whispered to the waxy figure lying there.

The mattress king was wearing the same suit he'd worn to the wake, something he never would've done if he were alive. It was a soft grey and very well fit. His suits were always well fit. If he could see Austin now, in a borrowed outfit that was just slightly too big, an improperly tied tie, and scuffed sneakers, he'd probably disown him all over again. Mike's tie was perfectly straight, probably from Diane's quick adjustments. And of course it was blue; only royal blue for royalty after all. He was still so pale and so artificial looking. Austin let his brown eyes drift to the unmoving hands folded across his father's belly. His wedding band was still there and so was his class ring from Florida State University. And, if Austin squinted, he could still see a faint pink scar across his 2nd and 3rd knuckles. A decade ago Mike, fully enraged, backed a young blonde boy into a corner of the living room and threw a powerful punch at his head. The 13 year old had ducked, cringing when the mattress king's knuckles crashed through the wall. Frowning at the memory, Austin went and sat beside his mother. He'd dodged that blow but not many others that was for sure. And even after remembering that, there was still a sharp ache in his chest that not even his precious white lines could soothe.

"You know what excuse me." All of a sudden Austin was out of his seat again and gently pushing away an unfamiliar lady standing at the casket. He leaned in close, smelling the musky scent of his father's corpse and whispering close to his ear.

"You may have tricked all these dumb fucks here into thinking you're such a great guy but you'd better believe _I_ know the truth. Hell, your fucking wife knows the truth because you did the same shit to her didn't you?" Austin hissed, fingers clutching the wooden box, "No, no you didn't hit her you just called her every name in the book didn't you? You disrespected her and fucked with her head and she just took it. You're a fucking asshole you know that?" someone's hands were wrapping around his upper arm and attempting to pull him away but he shook them off forcefully. "I want you to know that I will never forget what you did to me or to mom and I don't give a shit how many nice things all these idiots say about you here today. Do you hear me? Huh mattress king?" And now there were the tears from yesterday back with a vengeance and stinging his eyes. "I still hate you…You're dead and I STILL _hate_ you. Fuck you. This preacher is about to stand up there and tell us all that you're going up to heaven but I know better. I know so much better than that." And here Austin leaned in even closer, spittle flying from his tight lips, " _Fuck_ you Mike. I will ALWAYS know who you really are."

He grew quiet, as if waiting for dear old dad to respond, as if daring him to come back to life just long enough to hit him like he used to. But he didn't. And the hands were back, trying to pull him out of the casket and away from his decaying father. With another irritated yank, Austin broke the stranger's grasp and went calmly back to his seat between his mother and the end of the pew. People were staring. He swiped his suit sleeve roughly across his eyes and then his forehead.

"What were you saying to him?" Mimi whispered.

"Nothing he didn't already know." Austin sniffled again, unsure this time if it was blood or snot.

She leaned in closer and spoke even softer, "Are you high?"

Another drug-induced calm abruptly settled over him and he wiggled his eyebrows, attempting humor where he felt none, "Well Mimi…I'm not low."

"Oh dear God." His mother felt her already broken heart shattering.

Austin found himself staring at his father almost the entire time, completely tuning out the preacher and all others who chose to speak. Strangely enough, he was sort of waiting for Mike to breathe or sit up or… _something_. He was expecting his dead dad to suddenly hop up out of the casket and declare it all an extremely sick joke. The blonde really had no logical reason to think a thing like that would happen; he doubted his father could fake such absolute soullessness, and such an obvious absence of life. And plus Mike was a little too religious, and far too sane to think that faking his own death would be a good idea. Maybe Austin's brain was drifting nonsensically because it was weird to think he'd never speak to his dad again. Don't get him wrong, he hated Mike, like seriously FUCK that guy, but among the things his father had given him, black eyes and bruises and grief, _life_ was also still one of them. And for that reason, his dad's unexpected death was too large a thing to fully accept.

Before he knew it, they were back in the limo. Silence. Even Diane was shutting the hell up. The service had been at least an hour and a half and Austin's high was coming down like a roller coaster, with peaks and valleys. The amount of coke still active in his system was inversely proportional to the degree of agony he experienced. So, as he drew closer to sobriety, the more vivid his pain became. He yanked on the sloppy knot of his tie until it loosened then undid the top 2 buttons of his white dress shirt. Beside him, his grandma scoffed in disapproval but he didn't give a shit. Sitting back with a sigh, Austin stared out of the window, suddenly very tired. People were flooding the parking lot and attempting to gain a clear understanding of where the cemetery was before climbing into their cars. After the casket was carried out and the immediate family ushered to the limo, Ally and her family had been some of the first guests to exit the church. Advantages of sitting in the back, he guessed. He watched the trio part ways in the lot, them walking hand in hand to the silver Honda and her striding gracefully to her red Beetle. He wondered, as Ally climbed inside, how she'd feel about a stroll through the tombstones.

"Austin." His mother sighed, dabbing at her eyes.

He turned to regard her across the spacious interior, "Hm?"

"Can we-…will you please just behave for the rest of the ceremony sweetheart?" she was practically pleading with him, her blue eyes glistening and her heart almost visibly crumbling. And, as much as he hated to admit it, a familiar tender aching awoke within him at the sight.

With a smirk and a silly little salute, he softly agreed, "Sure thing mom."

She didn't return the smile. His eyes went back to the parking lot, but the red VW was already gone.

Grandpa Gerald was a little chattier on the slow ride to Coral Gables Memorial Cemetery. He went on and on about how he'd have to talk to Mr. Cooper about being promoted to Mike's old position and about how fervent the preacher had been during his sermon and about how he hoped his grandson's disruptive little 'spectacle' was not to be repeated and blah blah blaaaah. If Austin hadn't been on the more tiring downward slope of his high, he might've had a few colorful words for gramps. But he just leaned into the soft black leather, scrolling lazily through Instagram and then Tumblr. He even got a comforting text from Dez.

 _Chin up, asshole. Call me later._

Austin smiled as they arrived at their destination.

Once again he allowed the rest of the limo's occupants out before him. The smell of rain was thick though none had fallen yet. He eyed the umbrellas still closed and clutched in mourners' hands and slowly, almost unconsciously, brought his fingers up to rub across his right shoulder. It was covered by a starched white shirt and a black suit jacket but he knew his celebratory tattoo was still there, would always be there, buried darkly within his skin. Austin took a deep breath, garnering strength from his ink, then followed behind his aunt.

The grave site was beautiful. Whether that was the work of Mother Nature or the extra dopamine pooled in Austin's brain, he couldn't be sure. But Mike Moon's casket had finally been closed for the last time and hovered like some kind of ethereal beacon over its deep grave. The coffin was made of Poplar trees, sporting a light brown glossy finish with this milk chocolate wood grain. The silver handles glimmered in even the most minimal sunlight and somehow lent a little glamour to a very somber occasion. There was also a certain strange yet interesting disparity between the coffin and the hole it dangled above, one being a bundle of natural materials treated and molded by human hands, and the other, also products of Mother Nature but simple and raw. The grass was an extremely vibrant green and the soil unbelievably black, creating this stark but gorgeous contrast that he didn't really think Mike's bloodless cadaver deserved. He looked up into the fully clouded sky, now a heavier, darker grey. And the people, gathered closely and dressed all in black, only added to the odd combination of beauty and morbidity.

He, Mimi, Diane, Gerald, and Tess all stood front and center. If Mike was putting on a concert instead of being buried, those 5 would've had the very best seats in the arena. And, even though the rest of the funeral guests were all huddled in tight around the grave, Austin was having trouble locating Ally. He'd just noticed that multiple women were also wearing hats. And it definitely didn't help that she was short as hell.

His mother was crying. He'd heard that sound enough times for his ears to be fine-tuned to it. Foregoing his search for Ally, Austin put his arm around Mimi's shoulders, hoping that would do something. She leaned into him. They listened to the priest speak again about heaven gaining another angel and it made Austin wonder if they said that at every funeral and, if so, did these religious figures truly believe it? The preacher that presided over Didi's burial had declared the young redhead an angel too, saying that God called her home and now heaven was even better than before. Austin could buy that. Didi was one of the sweetest girls he'd ever known, even when they first met and he was a rough and rude 17 year old runaway. But putting his dad in the same category as Dez's older sister? He couldn't accept that. If anything, his father was going to Hell and he hated that the priest was saying otherwise. He closed his brown eyes and tightened his grip on Mimi's shaking shoulder.

"Ashes to ashes….dust to dust." Father James' voice, papery and deep, was fitting for the despondent atmosphere. There was finality in his words and in his resounding baritone. And with that, Mike Moon's casket began its descent. Austin's eyes were still closed but he could hear the straps sliding as they lowered his father and he could smell the rich scent of earth as if it was closing in around him instead. He thought of his whispered rant back at the church, imagining the vicious words sealed in the coffin with his dad, cushioned by a satin lining and infiltrating Mike's deaf ears. For a brief moment of purely coke-driven panic, Austin wanted to rip the casket's lid off and release his hatred into the clouds, up amongst the thinnest altitudes possible. But that impulse passed. He opened his eyes. He stared at the black hole before him and raked a hand through his blonde hair excruciatingly slow. That was it. The funeral was over. His father, who'd really only ever taught him how to ride a bike and how to fish and how to take a punch, was below the ground and beyond the living; he was in a world of dirt and insects, fire and brimstone. His dad was dead and Austin still hated him and all the 23 year old wanted to do was scream and run until his legs gave out.

"My sincerest condolences to you all." Some old lady approached him and his mother, breaking Austin from his thoughts. The Moon's thanked her almost robotically.

The funeral was over. The funeral was over. It ran like a mantra through his mind. People were going to mingle a little, sharing stories about Mike and expressing their deepest regrets before heading back to Saint Gabriel's for the reception. He took his arm from Mimi and tore both hands through his hair. Austin wasn't sure what to do with himself.

And suddenly there were Ally's parents, standing there with their daughter just slightly behind them.

"We wanted all of you to know that we're here for you if you need anything." The mom said despite Gerald, Tess, and Diane being engaged in other conversations.

"Thank you so much Penny." Mimi, thankfully, spoke for them both because he was far too preoccupied with the petite brunette. She was slowly making her way around her parents, coming to a stop directly in front of Austin and offering another half-smile.

Ally was just as beautiful as ever. Underneath the wide-brimmed hat, her hair hung in big, loose curls around her face and delicate shoulders. She wore a sheer, black, long-sleeved, button-up blouse fastened all the way up to the collar and tucked into those high-waisted black cigarette pants that showed off her ass so expertly. Austin eyed her, uncaring if it made her uncomfortable or not. He followed the gold, feather-shaped buttons on her shirt back up to that lovely face. She was wearing a little more make up than yesterday, mascara and liner that made her eyes impossibly big and, of course, the scarlet lipstick.

"Are you okay?" she asked it gently, letting the words roll softly from in between her lips.

Standing there staring at this guarded brunette, once again he was reminded that it was her, Allyson, that truly drew him in, not the red. Austin tried to keep his heartbeat in check and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Walk with me?"

She nodded.

They abandoned their parents' conversation and headed off in the first direction his feet turned him. As the duo trekked across the grass, he stared down at their shoes. Hers were black and white oxfords with gold fringe.

"Okay I'm just gonna-…" she blurted out and Austin looked at her, "Um well…I know I acted like a crazy person last night."

He smirked, "Yeah."

"I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

He just shrugged like he always did when she made a big deal out of something he wasn't even upset about, "It's cool. We've all been there."

"You mean screaming at someone over nothing?" Ally regarded him skeptically.

"Well it obviously wasn't nothing to you." he replied, "Everybody has a trigger, something that instantly pisses them off."

"Including you?"

"ESPECIALLY me." He grinned.

She was quiet for a second as they passed a tombstone, "Well I'm still sorry."

"Don't sweat it. And I won't call you… _that_ anymore."

And her smile, though close-lipped, was finally full, "Thanks."

It seemed then, as they continued in no particular direction and neither spoke, that Austin and Ally had already found a comfortable silence with each other. She thought about the blonde boy that seemed so in control of himself. And he couldn't think of anything but his father.

"So are you ever gonna tell me what happened to your hand?" Austin asked when Mike's voice started to echo against his skull. Her right hand was still bandaged, albeit with less gauze.

She blushed a rosy magenta and adjusted the black purse hanging on her shoulder.

"I uh…um it looks like a lot of people brought umbrellas. Is it bothering you at all?"

"Hell no." he patted his right shoulder, "I've got old faithful with me."

"You know I was researching phobias yesterday and they are extraordinarily difficult to overcome. I mean some people use therapy and see psychologists and _still_ never get over their fears. The fact that you did it on your own and in less than a year is really remarkable." Ally looked up at him genuinely impressed.

And, really, it wasn't like compliments were completely foreign to Austin. There were countless nights where he stepped off stage fatigued, sweaty, and coursing with adrenaline, only to find himself surrounded by hips and tits and belly piercings. Manicured hands would drag slowly down his chest while long jet black eyelashes batted flirtatiously. Then, as the scent of perfume rocked him into submission, lips caked with gloss and color would praise his guitar playing, fawn over his singing voice, and, many intimate hours later, moan in satisfaction. But this was different. He'd never had someone so intelligent and intriguing commend him on conquering his fear. Hell, he'd never had anyone compliment him about anything that wasn't his musical or sexual ability. When he told the guys he was no longer afraid of umbrellas they hadn't appreciated the significance at all. Jace even said something along the lines of "Whoop-de-fucking-doo". In their eyes, a fear of umbrellas was stupid, and who gives a shit if you overcome something stupid? He loved those guys, but none of them had researched phobias. None of them had even come close to using the word "remarkable".

But Ally had.

And, to his complete chagrin, there was heat rising steadily into his face.

Refusing to blush, he quickly tried to save himself with humor, "So you researched my condition? Sounds pretty romantic."

Ally rolled her eyes, "Oh whatever. I like to learn. Did you know that melophobia is the fear of music?"

"Fear of _music_? Jesus fucking Christ."

"I know right. Can you imagine? And phobophobia is the fear of phobias. And xanthophobia is the fear of the color yellow."

"Okay so you looked up ALL the phobias not just mine. Now I don't feel as special."

"Shut up." She shook her head playfully.

"What about you Ally? What're you afraid of?"

She was quiet long enough for them to pass by 3 closely placed gravestones. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope. How about you?"

"No I don't. Hey what about OHA? When are you going to that?"

It shocked him for a second, her actually answering a question, even if it was a simple one and even if she immediately changed the subject afterwards.

"Uh I'll have to leave in a few hours. It's a really long drive to Atlanta and we have a show at midnight."

"Oh…I think I just felt a raindrop."

"Me too."

And maybe only 30 seconds after the words left his mouth, Austin was being pulled by the hand through an unending curtain of rain.

"Come on!" Ally shouted, her right hand tucked into her purse in an attempt to keep the gauze dry, her left hand gripping his as they ran.

He didn't know where she was leading him. He didn't care where she was leading him because _she_ was leading him. They raced through the downpour, weaving around tombstones and flower bouquets. As they neared the packed parking lot, Ally released his hand so she could push her hat down a little tighter for security.

"This way!" she shouted at him over her shoulder, steering them both towards the left. The red Bug stuck out like a sore thumb. Austin pushed his wet hair out of his face. They approached the car from the driver's side and Ally quickly whipped out her remote, pressing the unlock button and making the front lights flash. He raced around to the passenger side, tearing the door open and practically throwing himself inside. Once both doors were slammed shut, they sat there filling the silence with their shallow panting.

The smell struck him first. It was fruity and sharp. He noticed a green apple shaped air freshener clipped directly to one of the center air vents.

"I don't think I have any towels but," she rummaged through the slight clutter of the backseat and produced a handful of clothes, "you can try and use this to dry off if you want."

Austin took the cloth from her and held it up. A yellow MUNY t-shirt.

"Damn. That came out of nowhere didn't it." He grinned at her as he removed his already loosened tie.

"I know right!" she used a grey pair of sweat pants to pat her face very carefully.

He could see that, surprisingly, Ally's makeup was completely intact and her hair still held a good majority of its curls. Apparently a hat was a good choice.

Austin removed his wet suit jacket and placed it on the armrest with his tie. Fortunately his shirt was only damp along the button area, where it hadn't been covered by the jacket. He unfastened 2 more of the buttons and began wiping at his partially exposed chest.

"It looks like a lot of people are still outside." Ally squinted past the rain, watching a good amount of the funeral attendees continue to mingle with their umbrellas open.

"Pssh fuck that." Austin rubbed the shirt roughly and rapidly in his hair and across his face.

"Oh my gosh. I think I'm actually getting used to your profanity."

He chuckled underneath the yellow tee, "All part of my master plan!"

"Shut up." She giggled, "Oh you can just toss that in the back when you're done."

Austin turned to replace Ally's shirt with the other miscellaneous items strewn across the backseat. But when he dropped the yellow cloth, something else caught his eye.

"Quick question." He said, bringing the item to the front, "Why'd you leave this in the car?"

Ally stopped examining herself in the visor mirror, letting her brown eyes flicker over to him. And when she saw the little green umbrella in his hand, she began to blush.

"Uh um well I knew a lot of people were going to bring their umbrellas and I…you know, I knew you'd be here and I didn't want to contribute to the uh…I mean not that I think you couldn't handle it or anything like that. I just figured one less umbrella couldn't hurt."

Austin's heart stuttered briefly at her thoughtfulness and then the blush was impossible to deter.

"Oh." He tossed the umbrella to the back and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry. Are you offended?" her eyebrows knit in worry, "I'm sorry."

"No I'm not offended I swear." He pretended to wipe his shoes off in an effort to avoid looking at her directly. "I appreciate the hell out of it actually."

She sighed in relief, "Okay good."

Once the heat in his face began to subside, Austin noticed droplets of water still dripping from his hair. He went to grab Ally's yellow shirt again when he heard her gasp softly.

"Is that another tattoo?"

He followed her gaze to where his shirt had opened further in his attempts to stretch towards the backseat.

"Yeah." Austin pushed his hair out of his face then pulled the fabric open wider. There across his exposed left pec were the letters 'WWDD?' surrounded by a black rectangle about the size of a name tag.

"What does it mean?" her eyes traced the bold lines.

"It stands for "What would Didi do?" you know kind of like "What would Jesus do"?"

"Who's Didi?"

"She was my best friend Dez's older sister. Didi…from the day I met her she was just too good a person. She was just a real life, heaven on Earth, good person." He paused, "Me and the guys would always joke and say 'what would Didi do?' when we knew that the more fun thing wasn't necessarily the more righteous thing. We didn't always follow it." Austin chuckled, "We never followed it actually. But we always said it. And when she passed away all 4 of us got the tattoo."

"How did she die?"

Austin's eyes drifted to his hands where they lay curled in his lap. "Pancreatic cancer. It spread. She was in chemo for a long time and the shit didn't even work."

He knew that chemotherapy was sometimes only meant to prolong life and not necessarily cure the patient. And it had done just that. It prolonged Didi's time on Earth, leaving her sick and weak and bald until she eventually died anyway. Hers was Austin's first experience with death. He was 18 years old and it unleashed this dull ache that started in the apex of his heart and throbbed up to the base. He endured it though, with music and friends. It was nothing compared to the merciless hollowing he felt over his father's passing. That ache wasn't an ache at all, it was an excavation of his vital parts and he wasn't sure when he'd finally fold in on himself. There was no music for this agony, no friends to understand his lifelong battle with hating someone he had no choice but to love. This pain needed drugs: coke, weed, and Ally…

Austin snapped from his trance as a delicate but bandaged hand gently covered his own. He stared at the mint green fingernails.

"I'm so sorry you're hurting Austin." her voice, whispering and full to the brim with concern, was a soothing sound.

He closed his eyes and sighed, relishing the feel of it against his ear drums.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered it again and he felt the gentle hum of electricity ignite between their joined flesh.

Austin opened his eyes and continued to scrutinize her hand, not quite able to look up yet. His pitch black pupils slid meticulously along the fine lines of her knuckles, they smoothed over her fair skin. Slowly, Austin clasped Ally's right hand in his and allowed his thumb to stroke gingerly along the thick white gauze.

The blonde's voice rasped with gentle seriousness, "What happened to your hand Ally?"

There was a significant silence, somehow made even heavier by the constant patter of rain against glass and metal.

"D-do you remember yesterday at the wake when you said that sometimes," she was speaking so very softly, "when stuff breaks you, it helps to break stuff back?"

"Yeah." He continued to stare at her hand.

"Well I um…ugh," she scoffed as if thoroughly embarrassed, "After we left I couldn't stop thinking about what you said. So I went to the Goodwill and bought like 6 cheap little glass vases and I took them down to our basement….my parents were out getting groceries or something. I grabbed one of my dad's old golf clubs and I-…."

Ally bit her lip momentarily then sighed like the satisfaction was washing over her all over again, "God it felt good at first. There was strength there that I didn't even know I had. I was gripping the club so tight that my hands hurt. Each little vase just exploded completely…..God it felt good Austin."

His stomach flipped when she said his name.

"It wasn't until I went to smash the 5th one that I realized I was crying." Ally paused again, "I was _bawling_ and I couldn't stop and I really didn't want to destroy anything anymore. I tried to hurry and clean everything up before my parents got back but I just could NOT stop crying." She gripped his hand a little bit tighter, as if it was the golf club, "I tripped over an old box of photos and fell and this huge piece of glass went right into my hand. My mom and dad were walking in the house just as I screamed. They ran downstairs and found me sitting on the floor, bleeding all over the place and crying uncontrollably." She sighed, "We were just getting back from the emergency room when you kidnapped me for our walk."

Austin chuckled and spoke to her delicate fingers, "So that's why you were in such a pissy mood?"

"Partially yeah." The smile in her voice evident. And then, after a short silence where the rain drummed around them, she flipped her hand over, "10 stitches."

And as she offered him the softness of her palm, his despondent brown eyes finally lifted. They climbed her arm with its sheer black sleeve before curving over her shoulder and burying themselves in curls of chocolate brown and honey blonde. They ascended her elegant neck, ensconced in more of that sheer black and adorned with gold buttons made to look like feathers in the wind. They scaled her dainty chin and wandered, temporarily disorientated, about her incredibly red lips. For a second he watched her mouth part to take in a much needed breath. Then his gaze was rising again, up and over her nose to finally reach an entire field of dark brown cherry wood. When their eyes met, hers surrounded by never ending lashes and swirling beautifully with some secret tragedy, the Beetle's temperature escalated.

She was always so engaged when they spoke. Austin discovered that his pulse was almost faster than the rain when he thought of his words floating around her brain, influencing her decisions. Ally didn't look at him with hungry eyes that couldn't wait for him to stop talking and start undressing. She didn't get completely lost in even the simplest conversation and stare vacantly until the words were done and she could finally ask him not to forget her when he got rich and famous. And because of that, he made the kind of eye contact with her that couldn't be broken even if he wanted it to be; the kind that hurt because she could potentially look inside of him and see all the bitter murkiness he held.

They were still holding hands as Austin started to lean in, his disheveled blonde hair falling slightly into his face. It wasn't until he was practically over the armrest that Ally made any kind of forward movement. He was fully aware that their gradual closeness was 90% him and only 10% her. But wasn't that how they seemed to always do things? Didn't he constantly offer more just for the sole reward of having her offer even just a little? Austin didn't mind though because it was worth it, each and every time.

They were millimeters apart and she was frowning gorgeously with her eyes closed. It was the last thing he saw, that delicately furrowed brow, before his eyelids fell and their lips touched cautiously. Warmth. That's all he could register. And then suddenly, softness and pressure. She trembled as she kissed him with a feather's lightness.

"Austin…." She breathed his name, both syllables pushing themselves across her lips.

"I know, I know," he whispered into the darkness, allowing his mouth to brush against hers, "I just…I need…"

He kissed her once more. He knew she was afraid, that she was thinking about the walls she'd carefully constructed around herself and how this gentle meeting of lips could destroy her. But Austin felt Ally kissing him back and, regardless of her trepidation, he couldn't bring himself to abandon it. She tasted like the home he'd always wanted, the affection he'd been starved of. He pressed closer, firmer, and reached up to gently cup her cheek in his hand.

She gasped like a woman deprived of air for too long and sent both of her palms forcefully into his chest. Austin was pushed backwards, away from the armrest and into the passenger seat as Ally crushed herself to the driver's side door like she'd give anything and everything to be somewhere else. She panted as if she couldn't breathe in such a confined space, chest rising and falling and dying for oxygen. Her left hand clutched the steering wheel, her right gripped the seat with all its might.

"Ally-"

"Please get out." She whispered, her eyes staring down at the armrest without blinking and her body rigid with unimaginable tension.

"But I-"

"Get out!"

He yanked on the door handle, not wanting to cause her any more grief, not wanting to make any more of the seconds or minutes of her life unbearable. Austin gazed at her one last time, watching those wide captivating eyes flush with tears, before grabbing his tie and jacket and rushing out into the cool rain.


	5. Chapter 5

_**"Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago."**_

Rain continued to fall, fat droplets deploying from the cloudy grey beyond and exploding against him. He'd forgotten where the limo was parked and now his shirt clung like a second skin. Maybe it was karma, firmly reminding him that he was kind of a shitty person. He'd royally fucked things up with Ally and, immediately after, found himself lost, disoriented, and cold. Wasn't that just poetic enough to be a spiritual phenomenon? He wrapped his arms around himself and wandered aimlessly about the parking lot, his frustrations mounting with each fruitless second. Perhaps he didn't even need to find the car. Maybe Austin could stop and tilt his head back and let the universe fill his lungs with water.

Jesus fucking Christ.

She couldn't even _look_ at him.

Thunder boomed in the distance, sending sound waves to rumble up his spine. Rainwater was seeping steadily into his socks and, really, he just wanted to walk until he reached sunshine, until everything was bright and warm and simple. The funeral attendees that had remained outside, umbrellas open against the pouring rain, scurried to their vehicles. Austin didn't move nearly as quickly. He sloshed through the flooding grass sluggishly, allowing the elements to consume him. Ally lingered like a bold flavor on his tongue. He pulled his lips in. They still tingled.

It was through the silver sheets of rain that he spotted Mimi's pink umbrella folding and disappearing into what he could only assume was the limo.

"Hey do you want me to walk you to your car or something?"

"Ah shit fuck shit!" Austin nearly leapt out of his goosebumped skin as a distant relative appeared out of nowhere and held a giant navy blue umbrella over his head. Quickly stepping away and back under the rainfall to regain his composure, the blonde sighed angrily, "What the fu- No I don't need a fucking escort thanks!"

Austin stalked off, swallowing the urge to tell cousin What's-his-face to go fuck himself with that blue monstrosity. There was an undeniable increase in his pulse rate. He brushed his fingers across his shoulder, the tattoo slightly visible through his soaked white shirt. The small giddy up in his heartbeat made Austin feel weak, as if those months of sweat-inducing, lip-biting hard work hadn't been a true success. He felt less….. _remarkable_ somehow.

By the time he reached the limousine his nerves were rattled, his already wafer thin patience was nearly nonexistent, and he actually CRAVED a cigarette like he never had before. Maybe because it was warm and soothing, like she was.

"Oh my goodness! Austin?!" Mimi cried incredulously as he tore open the door and practically threw himself inside. He took the seat across from his mother and closest to the door before quickly shutting out the offending weather. Gerald and Tess both scooted away from him, their facial expressions nothing but displeasure. Diane was too busy doing stuff on her phone to pay him any attention, and for that he was immensely grateful.

"Have you been out in the rain this whole time?!" his mom asked, searching desperately through her purse.

"Yeah." he lied, sitting back and resting his head with a sigh. He allowed his sopping wet clothes and hair to soak the seat.

"Why didn't you come back to the limo?" she scolded him, "Here."

Austin lifted his head and took the huge wad of Burger King napkins Mimi always kept in her pocketbook just in case.

"I couldn't remember where the fucking thing was parked." He mumbled.

"Austin watch your language _please_."

"Mom don't start alright." the half-drowned 23 year old began wiping his face, "I'm not in the mood."

"Listen to your mother for once huh?" Grandpa Gerald chimed in, obviously fed up with his grandson's attitude.

"What the hell is this gang up on Austin day?" he shot an irritated frown around the space before speaking slowly and a little louder than intended, "I'm an adult. I'm pissed off. I say 'FUCK' and 'SHIT' to reflect both of those things." He paused to survey his unhappy audience, eyebrows high on his forehead, "Are we all on the same fucking page now?"

"This behavior of yours is unacceptable." Gerald grumbled, straightening his tie.

"Yeah well tough shit gramps because I like it just fine."

Completely done with his annoying relatives, Austin focused on drying himself off as much as he could with a fistful of fast food napkins. He concentrated on his hair first as the limo's engine came to life and temporarily broke the silence. The thin paper did as well as he'd expected, practically falling apart in just his flopping blonde bangs alone. He settled for damp hair after quickly going through about 8 of the napkins then moved on to the rest of his face, swiping 2 napkins down his forehead, nose and mouth. But as Austin moved to toss the soggy paper on the floor of the limo, something caught his eye. His brown eyes scrutinized the moist napkin before he used it to wipe his mouth again, harder this time. And when he pulled it back and looked at it, his heart seemed to leap, tugging on its attached vasculature and shooting a sharp but momentary pain through his chest because there, near the BK logo, were very faint smears of red. From her lips to his, pressed there by a kiss that felt like…fuck if he could even begin to describe it.

Their limo started moving. The formal parts of the funeral were over and people vacated the cemetery in no particular order or procession. They passed slowly along the road leading out of the burial grounds. Austin stared out the window, still pressing napkins to his chest and neck. The rain was lifting gradually and he could already see that the red VW was gone.

They were stuck behind some off-white old school Cadillac going maybe 15 miles an hour and essentially trapping them among the tombstones. He could see people clearing the set up at his father's newly filled grave. The flowers and the 18X20 photo of Mike's smiling face had already been removed. Once they dismantled the tent they'd had hovering over the proceedings, it would just be a mound of mud packed tighter and tighter by the falling rain, and a gravestone. It was a solid grey polished hunk of rock, engraved with everything you'd ever need to know about Michael Leslie Moon. Born April 24th 1970. Died March 17th 2015. Respectful son. Giving husband. Loving father. Prudent businessman. And if you looked reeeeaaaal close, you could see where Austin had carved 'Professional fucking asshole' with his imaginary laser vision.

He sat back in his seat and relaxed as best as he could in wet clothes. But with no distractions and no drugs in his system, thoughts of his father began to roll in like ocean waves. He remembered learning to ride a bike, Mike's hands, which looked so huge and protective at the time, gripping the back of his seat and pushing as the training wheels rattled. He remembered standing on the dock with his dad catching Snappers and Groupers. They'd even reeled in a swordfish once that was longer than his own 7 year old body. He remembered Mike letting him take a sip of beer when he was 10 and both of them laughing at the disgusted face he'd made and the furious way his mom lectured her reckless boys. Memories like those were the gentle swells of the sea, rolling but never breaking, lifting him up. But then he remembered the way his dad had shouted and insulted Mimi after she scolded them; how Mike had forced Austin to take another bitter gulp just to spite the concerned woman. He remembered the first time his dad hit him. It was a single slap across the face with the same hand that had balanced Austin on a bike years before. The blow knocked him completely speechless. Disney and Nickelodeon hadn't prepared an 11 year old for that pivotal moment when his own father's angry hands caused his cheek to swell with a thick and throbbing heat. He remembered enduring swollen skin and bruised flesh for 7 months before he ripped up every single photo he had of Mike Moon. His hands shook and his nose bled as the picture of him, his dad, and that legendary swordfish was reduced to confetti. Those memories were like crashing waves, frothing with the power to potentially bowl him over and drag him out into the deepest waters.

The tide was roiling in Austin's brain, a combination of lazy surf and curling whitecaps. He watched wilted bouquets, placed carefully at beloved grave sites, collecting beads of rainwater. He knew his mom would probably be visiting regularly with a fresh bundle of whatever she'd decided to grow in her garden. Austin tore his eyes away from the murky weather to glance at his mother. Mimi loved Mike despite the beer incident and despite every incident before or after that. She loved him regardless of the insults and not caring about the way she sometimes cowered his presence. And long after Austin packed up Roxy and left Miami forever for the 3rd time, she'd mourn the passing of her husband passionately. It was a bit of a struggle, but he managed to drag his gaze from his heartbroken mother.

"Aunt Di can I bum a cigarette off of you?" he asked casually.

She didn't even look up from her phone, "I stopped smoking years ago."

"Seriously?" he reached into the inside pocket of his wet jacket for his cell. Luckily it was still dry.

"I was spending a fortune on cigarettes and another fortune on teeth whitening."

"Oh."

They rode on in the kind of tense silence only a dysfunctional family could generate.

The rain had stopped completely by the time they arrived back at Saint Gabriel's. Sunshine bore down, as if making up for the past few dreary hours, with a bright heat that Florida was known for. Austin contemplated skipping the reception and just sitting outside to dry off but then his stomach made some subhuman noise and he reconsidered. He was starving.

"They'll have a table specifically for us at the very front of the room." Diane explained as the 5 of them started to climb from the limo. "The whole reception is set up buffet style but we'll be having our meals served to us so just head straight for the table when we get inside."

This time Austin didn't wait for everyone else to exit the car. He got out right after Mimi and walked beside her towards the brick building.

The reception was being held in Saint Gabriel's fellowship hall, the doorway to which was on the church's east facing side and didn't have the drama of pillars or stone steps like the front. It was fitting that the door was a regular old wooden one with a rectangular window because this part of the funeral ceremony was far more casual. Austin decided to leave Gavin's suit jacket and tie in the car. He rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and left the first 4 buttons of it undone. Sure his mostly exposed chest might upset some of the more conservative attendees but that wasn't his fucking problem.

The guests welcomed their small party of 5 with more of those sympathetic expressions. Austin wondered how long his family would be considered things to pity. Like what was the grace period? When could he stop just letting people feel sorry for him and properly tell them to cut that shit out? He couldn't remember ever giving Dez the 'poor you' eyes, not even when the red head broke down in the hospital cafeteria. Austin gave the room a sarcastic smile and an even less sincere little wave as he followed his mom towards the front. Diane had kept the accommodations modest yet charming with black table cloths and some vases stuffed with lilies and strategically placed all around the room. Even the chairs were wooden and cushioned, putting them leaps and bounds ahead of the typical metal folding ones. Most of the seats were occupied with folks stuffing their faces and chatting each other up. Austin tried to crane his neck and get a look at what exactly was on the menu, but his aunt was quickly ushering them all to the front where their reserved table sat. Unlike the 10 or so round tables that were set up around the space, the Moon's table was rectangular and covered in a white cloth instead of black. Their chairs were wooden too but taller, the cushioning plusher, and all 5 were lined up on the same side of the table as if they were royalty and needed to face their subjects as they feasted. He rolled his eyes, thinking that a mattress kingdom hardly qualified them for this kind of treatment.

The best case scenario for Austin would be to sit in either chair number 1 or 5 so he'd only have 1 immediate neighbor to deal with. And if he could make sure that Diane was that neighbor, he'd be set. She was the most likely to ignore him regardless of what kind of language he used or faces he made. All Austin wanted to do was wolf down his food in peace then find someone with a pack of cigarettes. He managed to snag seat 1 when it looked like his aunt was hovering around seat 2, but then she changed her mind and abandoned him. He ended up sitting beside Mimi, of course, and she sent him a warm smile like they were bff's or something.

"Jesus." Austin mumbled under his breath as he looked away. His eyes surveyed the room for a specific black hat, but it wasn't there. He ran a hand through his wild, damp hair. It was going to be a long meal.

It was almost as if she purposefully waited until he'd shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth before asking him something. Austin rolled his eyes and sighed around a bunch of half-chewed chicken and rice.

"I don't know mom. What did she say?" he tried to answer his mother's question without choking.

"She said that we sold her a mattress with bed bugs ON PURPOSE and that we were terrible people. Can you believe that?"

Yet another query that should've been rhetorical, but Mimi paused and awaited his response again. He shook his head, gently removing the fork from his mouth and trying to speak with his tongue buried beneath a fresh bite of mac and cheese.

"Nope." Austin said noncommittally.

"I couldn't believe it either." She picked up her cup and prepared to take a sip, "I mean why would we intentionally give her an infested mattress and ruin our own reputation? It's just ridiculous."

He chewed slowly and let his eyes wander over to the 6th woman his mom had gossiped about since they started eating. He couldn't even remember the lady's name but she was seated right next to Ally's parents and that was enough to get at least a portion of his attention.

"I still don't understand why she even showed up today." Mimi said after swallowing her iced tea and setting her glass down, "The last thing she said to your father and I was NOT very polite but here she is smiling in my face and telling me to call her if I need anything. She didn't even apologize for her behavior."

He smirked, "What a bitch huh?"

"Austin Monica!" his mother scolded him but not without a cheeky grin.

"I never knew you were such a gossip queen mom."

"Oh shush." She loaded her fork with green bean casserole, "I'm just telling you what happened."

"Noooo you guys are like the goddamn real housewives of Miami." Austin teased.

"Language." Mimi put her hand in front of her mouth to whisper-yell her disapproval around a bite of green beans.

"Tell me honestly," he swallowed another mouthful of food, "How many vicious cat fights have you been in with these women?"

"Oh stop it!" she laughed, playfully pushing his shoulder.

Grinning, Austin stood with his now empty plate, "I'm gonna get some more food. Want anything while I'm up?"

"Aren't we supposed to wait for the servers?"

"Pssh fuck that I'm hungry now."

"Well I'll take some more tea then."

"Ok." He grabbed her cup, ignored his aunt's stern glare, and headed for the back of the room.

Austin almost instantly regretted it as nearly every table he maneuvered around stopped him to express their condolences AGAIN, but this time with food stuck in their teeth and crumbs in their beards. If the blonde didn't naturally have the appetite of a pregnant elephant, he might've completely lost the desire to eat. He veered way left in order to avoid a group that seemed like they'd be excessively sympathetic and ended up right next to Ally's parents and the bed bug bitch. For a moment, he kind of froze. Was it possible they knew he'd attacked their daughter's lips just over an hour ago? Did Ally tell them how she'd gotten a death grip on the first things her hands could find?

He approached them anyway, doubting their little girl would've said anything, and smiled, "Hey guys."

"Oh hey there Austin." The dad replied jovially.

"Your aunt did a wonderful job with this reception." The woman his mom had called Penny gestured around the room.

He glanced at the decorations, nodding, "Yeah she's a funeral director so she's used to doing shit like this."

"I don't believe we met." Miss bed bug spoke up, a smile stretching her thin lips, "I'm Josephine Chapman. I'm a friend of your parents."

"Yeah hi." Austin gave her the quickest, most dismissive greeting he could because if Mimi didn't like the bitch then her son didn't like the bitch. "So is Ally here?" he turned all of his attention to the brunette couple with the amazing daughter, "I haven't seen her since we left the cemetery."

And, really, he already knew the answer but there was still a little bit of hope swirling in his belly among the mashed potatoes and chicken breast.

The mom's face twisted apologetically, "Oh no she sent me a text saying she had a headache and went home to lie down."

"She text messaged you?" the dad pouted, "She never sends me text messages."

"Because you always go on this rant about how calling is so much easier."

"Well it is but if she's just going to go ahead and text message regardless then I'd like to get some text messages sometimes."

"Oh my God Lester you can just say 'text' you don't have to say 'text message' every. single. time!"

"What's the difference!?"

"Okay I'm gonna go now." Austin walked off before their bickering escalated or Chapman could attempt to strike up a conversation.

He piled his plate high with the stuff he'd practically vacuumed down and avoided the things he didn't particularly care for. At the end of the buffet table his heart nearly stopped beating as he surveyed the extensive array of desserts. It was awkward trying to balance a small mountain of food, a moderate pile of dessert, and a cup of iced tea, but he managed well enough by completely ignoring any and every one trying to get his attention and offer their 'so soooo sorries'.

"Austin I swear I don't know where you put it all." Mimi shook her head as she watched her son, with his perpetually lean build, set down two overflowing plates.

"It all goes straight to my ass can't you tell?" he craned his neck, pretending to observe his own backside impressively.

"Oh just sit down." She took her glass from him and set it next to her mostly empty plate. "You'll never guess who else is here. Gwen and Arthur Lowe. Ugh they always hated us because our store was more successful."

Austin steadily shoveled food into his rapidly filling mouth, "They sound like assholes."

Playing mean girls with his mom had been fun but Flesh & Bone's lead vocalist always loved a little alone time. He'd quickly polished off his 2nd plate and the various desserts before wandering outside. The church's large fenced-in backyard, with its big plastic playset and 2 sets of swings, was more to prevent the Sunday school kids from dying of boredom but he found himself there anyway. The sun had grown steadily hotter as they all ate, so by the time Austin trekked through the lush grass, sat at the bottom of the slide, and leaned back, almost all traces of the previous rain had evaporated away. Lying there with his head and spine pressed to the hot plastic and his eyes closed, he soaked in sunrays like they were life-giving. In a few hours he'd be leaving Miami for good, or at least for a long time, but hitting the road to Georgia without speaking to Ally first didn't seem to be a viable option in his mind. Just the thought of her having this severely negative image of him in her beautiful brain forever sent a rush of anxiety prickling deep in his muscles. He would have to see her before he left. But first, he was desperate to get dry. The heat helped, though extremely slowly. His phone buzzed suddenly with a new text. And as his brown eyes read over the few words, he sighed then put his cell back in the front pocket of his pants without responding. He wasn't in the mood for messages or people or any thoughts whatsoever. Austin tried to clear his mind. And when his shirt finally started to stick a little less, he reached into his other pocket.

After he'd unsuccessfully asked nearly every guest in attendance for a cigarette, his aunt had tracked him down, angrily thrusting 2 Salems and a lighter into his hand.

 _"Stop harassing everyone. And do NOT tell your grandparents that I still smoke."_

He sat up long enough to stick one of the cigs between his lips and light it. The smoke filled his lungs with a sweet relief that was slightly disconcerting. Austin had a few bad habits but he didn't consider himself addicted to any of them. Going hours or days without some white lines or snowy bumps didn't give him cold sweats. Foregoing weed for an extended period of time was boring but not even close to impossible. And, up until now, if cigarettes were suddenly erased from the face of the Earth, he wouldn't have even batted an eye. But the little cancer sticks had also never soothed him so well before and he momentarily contemplated destroying the second one, just in case. But instead he closed his eyes and laid back with a smoky exhale. Whatever. He could probably handle one more vice.

"Why am I not surprised to find you out here alone?"

It might've been the fastest Austin's moved since his younger days dodging Mike's fists. But he clamored from the heated plastic slide and to his feet immediately. Weird how a soft, feminine voice could alight in him the same sense of urgency as a 35 year old man's rage.

"Ally!?"

She stood there in her funeral garb, the wide brim of her hat casting a shadow across her eyes and allowing the sunlight to focus solely on the lower half of her face. And those red lips were smiling, if only a little bit.

"How come you're not inside?" she pointed a thumb at the church.

Austin held up his cigarette, "Needed to dirty up my lungs a little."

"Those things'll kill you you know."

He grinned, "Yeah. No shit."

And when the color of strawberry ice cream flourished in her cheeks, Austin felt his heart backflip in slow motion. All he wanted to do was banish the sun and summon the rain and kiss her with the scent of green apples heavy in the air.

"Hey Ally I'm-" he had started to walk to her but stopped as she grew just slightly tense, "Look I'm sorry about kissing you earlier. I was out of line, I should've backed off." He took a drag from the cigarette.

"So…" she studied her muddy oxfords carefully, "You didn't mean to kiss me?"

"What?" Austin frowned, blowing smoke quickly so he could speak, "Hell yeah I meant to kiss you. Have you fucking seen yourself?"

She giggled shyly despite her face darkening to an inhuman fuchsia.

"I mean…" he explained, "I don't know I guess I shouldn't just go for something just because I want it so bad…"

Ally peeked up at him through her lashes with eyes nearly as black as her outfit. He could see that the mascara and the eyeliner had been washed away and the whites of her eyes were tinged slightly red, as if she'd been crying. Austin wanted nothing more than to kiss her blues away, to taste the comforting sense of belonging that was embedded in her lips.

He laughed breathlessly, practically lost again in that arresting red, "…like so fucking bad you don't even know."

She grinned and covered her face with her hands as it grew impossibly hot, impossibly pink. It was cute and he couldn't help but smile and follow after her as she shuffled awkwardly to the swingset. The swing creaked lightly as she settled into it. He plopped down a lot less gracefully, causing the metal frame to groan.

"So how are you holding up?" Ally ran her fingertips up the metal links then grasped them softly.

The cigarette dangled from his lips as he shrugged, "Ok I guess."

"Really?"

Austin smirked, "My dad and I didn't exactly get along."

"Whaaat? But you're so charming." She said in mock surprise.

"Ooo sassy Ally. I like it." He clamped the cig between his pointer and middle fingers and inhaled.

She giggled.

Austin blew smoke through his nostrils, ""Let me ask you something."

"What?"

"So I wished my dad was dead, like SERIOUSLY wished he was dead, a total of three times in my life." He watched her eyes widen slightly as she realized the extent of Mike and Austin's fractured relationship, "I whispered it once when I was 13 and then I screamed it in his face two separate times when I was 15. And I guess I just wanna know if you think that this," he gestured vaguely to the church behind her, full of funeral guests, "could've been my fault?"

And his voice was so normal, he sounded so casual about it that, for a second, Ally thought he might be joking. She began to smile cautiously then stopped and frowned instead.

"Are you being serious?"

"Yeah." He flicked some ashes.

"Oh uhm…well… I doubt your teenage wishes killed your dad...?"

"Are you sure?" Austin tilted his head to the side, "I mean yeah I guess it took a couple of years but the way he died….just so suddenly. One second he was in his office, doing paperwork, then the next second he was slumped over dead without any kind of warning. Seems a little like voo-doo shit or something."

"Everyone dies in the space between 2 seconds Austin." Ally said softly, "The heart's beating and then it's not."

He thought about that for a moment, "Well yeah I guess that's true."

She smirked at him.

"Voo-doo huh?"

He grinned, "Shut up Ally."

They grew quiet, smiling and listening to the swings creak.

"Hey how's your hand?" he puffed leisurely.

She glanced over at it with a shrug, "Not too bad. It's a little sore, especially when I bend it or flex it."

"The doc didn't give you any pain meds?"

"Yeah he gave me enough pills for the week and an antibiotic shot that lasts 7 days. I'll have to go to CVS next Saturday and pick up my actual prescriptions."

"Fun fact: I've been banned from the entire CVS franchise for half a decade."

"Banned?"

"Yup. I haven't been legally allowed to set foot in one for years."

"Why not?"

He took a second to inhale a lungful of cigarette smoke, "When I was 19, me and the guys went to some party and got just absolutely HAMMERED," grey wisps escaped him with each word, "and we were walking, or I guess stumbling, back to the apartment but we stopped at a CVS on the corner because we planned to blaze when we got back and we wanted to stock up on snacks and shit."

"And by 'blazing' you mean like…marijuana?"

Brow knitting and eyes narrowing, Austin fixed her with a frown that was all confusion, "You serious?"

"I just want to clarify."

He laughed, "Fucking hell Ally. Yes I mean weed."

She rolled her eyes, "Whatever."

"Christ. So anyway, we're in the CVS all wasted and loud and my friend Jace trips and falls and knocks one of those little things with the sunglasses on it over." Austin grinned just thinking about it, "And then he tries to get back up but he can't get his balance so he like rams, I shit you not, he rams into a rack full of chip bags and like destroys it." They both laughed, "Doritos EVERYWHERE.

"Oh my gosh." Ally shook her head.

"So we're all dying laughing when one of the cashiers comes over and tries to kick us out. So, in a stroke of pure drunken genius I swear, me, my best friend Dez, you know Didi's brother, and my other friend Gavin, we um grab like an armful of candy bars and Funyons and try to run out of the store but the other cashier guys tackle the shit out of us. The cops come and they hold us in a cell over night for public intoxication," he stuck the cig between his lips and counted on his fingers, "underaged drinking, except for Gavin he was 21 at the time, um attempted shoplifting, destruction of private property, disturbing the peace…and I think that's it. Long story short, it was really the first serious offenses for all of us so the cops drop the intoxication and disturbing the peace. And eventually the CVS lawyers agree not to press charges and send us to jail as long as we pay a fine and adhere to a 5-year ban from all CVS locations in the US."

"So you've got one more year left?"

"Yeah but I'm not losing any sleep over it. I never go there anyway."

Ally shook her head in amusement, "You're kind of a criminal."

"I prefer badass but sure."

She giggled, "So Gavin, Dez, and…Jay?"

"Jace."

"Jace. They're your roommates?"

"Yeah and bandmates. Gavin plays bass and does backup vocals, Jace is the drummer, and Dez does keyboard, sometimes sax. Oh and he's our main songwriter. Sometimes I help him but he's better with words."

"You write songs?"

He flicked the ashes from his cigarette and glanced at her. She'd perked up at just that tiny bit of information, her eyes a little brighter and her smile a little wider.

"Yeah kinda. I mean I'm no Smokey Robinson but I contribute here and there."

Ally bit her lip, suddenly shy, "I'm a song writer too."

He grinned, "I'm not surprised. You got into MUNY so you must be some kind of musical genius right?"

She just shrugged, "I wouldn't say that. I mean I do love music. The stitches kind of make it hard to write and play now though."

"So what instruments do you play?"

"Umm…I guess pretty much all of them."

"All of them?"

"Yeah."

"All of them?"

She nodded, "Pretty much yeah."

"Guitar? Piano?"

"Both of those yeah."

"Drums?"

"Yeah."

"Ukulele?"

"Yup."

"Digeridoo?"

"Yes."

"Spoons?"

"Sure."

"Harp?"

"Yeah."

"Bagpipes?"

"Mhmm."

"Tuba?"

"Yes."

"Harmonica?"

"Yeah. I actually have one in my bag right now."

He tilted his head to the side laughing, "What the fuck? Why?"

"Sometimes I'll get a random melody in my head and I need an instrument just to help kind of get the rough draft going and the harmonica fits in my purse."

He nodded, looking out across the rest of the yard, "Makes sense."

Austin silently finger-combed his hair until he thought it was in some sort of decent order. The cigarette was weightless on the edge of his mouth, its tip smoldering hot orange as he drew tobacco smoke into his airway. Another wave of uneasiness slithered across his brain at how relaxed the nicotine made him feel. But he just pinched the little cancer stick between his fingers and pulled it away. His face rose to meet the sunshine. His lips puckered and released thin clouds twisting and billowing upwards. And as the toxic but soothing fumes left him, he closed his eyes and kept his head tilted back to let the golden rays warm his skin.

"Um the reason I came here was to apologize to you too." Ally softly said.

"To me?" Austin spoke towards the hot daylight, "For what?"

"For acting like a crazy person….again." she replied, "I mean I-I wanted to kiss you…I did. But at the same time I really didn't and then all at once I didn't know what I wanted."

He suspended his silent conversation with the sun and regarded the anxious brunette beside him. She stared down to where their shoes met the ground.

"I panicked." Ally's red lips murmured, "I just panicked."

He wasn't entirely sure what to say. Then her large brown eyes crept up to meet his and rendered him speechless. She frowned in that same elegant way she had about a million raindrops ago, when they were only a hair's breadth from kissing.

"I wanted it and I didn't want it and…a-and then you touched my face and it felt so nice that it was scary…I was just terrified. Geez, it felt so nice that I loved it and hated it and feared it altogether."

Austin swallowed, half-mesmerized by the way her lips moved.

Ally sighed, blinking slowly, "I'm so sorry for the way I reacted Austin."

He took a lingering drag of the cigarette to calm his stirring desires, "It's cool Ally. You know you say 'sorry' to me a lot." A smile played at his parted lips as smoke fell and floated out, "One of these days I'm gonna stop forgiving you."

"But you do keep forgiving me. Why?"

And there he faltered because he wasn't sure how she'd take his answer. The sinful blonde was no stranger to agony, emotional or physical. He wasn't turned off by her standoffish behavior or the constant sadness in her eyes because he'd been to that same wretched place, he'd lived there and wandered blindly there. From the ages of 11 to 17 Austin bombarded every stranger he met with questions, prying them open while blatantly evading everything they asked him. Just like Ally, he was hurting and defensive so he guarded his identity like it was life itself. When he was 12 he'd find himself sobbing uncontrollably at random moments, clutching whatever was in reach and unable to stop, just like she had in her cute little red Bug. When he was 14 and 15 he started lashing out, punching countless holes in walls and throwing things and being a disciplinary nightmare at school. He purged his pent up frustrations by breaking stuff so it matched his crumbling spirit, just as Ally had with 6 glass vases and her dad's golf club. When he was 16 he ran from it all, just like she dropped out of MUNY and left it hundreds of miles behind. And only 2 days ago at age 23 he yelled at his mother for calling him 'Little Prince' because that name represented every shitty thing he'd endured. Austin suspected that 'Ally-cat' was no different. But how could he say such a thing? How could he explain that he saw his young and miserable self in her so undeniably? How could he explain that he would always forgive her because they'd only just met on Thursday yet it was Saturday and, whether she realized it or not, her eyes were already begging him to, please, show her how to live with such pain?

"Because," he began carefully, "I know what you're going through even though you think I don't." he shrugged, "I know that you need me to be patient. And I know that, if I wait long enough, it'll pay off."

"What exactly do you think is the reward here?" her hands tightened around the swing chains.

"Getting to know you." He immersed himself in her brown eyes as they glistened, "Learning Ally."

She swallowed hard, "A-and that's some kind of prize? That's something worth waiting for?"

"Absolutely."

Ally shattered their eye contact, focusing intently on the kelly-green grass just beyond. And in the time it took Austin to inhale and exhale another burning pull from his cigarette, she was crying. It wasn't the heaving sobs he'd witnessed at the speed bump, but something much quieter and more willfully destructive. She sat as still as a statue, save for the tears rolling and rushing down the apples of her cheeks. He watched the crystal clear beads hang perilously before falling to burst against her black pants.

"But it's not though." Her voice strained and broke as she shook her head vigorously, "I'm-…you don't-..y-you shouldn't-…I'm nothing special I promise."

"Ally hey," he flicked a few ashes to the ground as her own fresh pain reached out to graze his heart, "Come on don't cry. Do you remember when we took that walk last night and I called you…that name you don't like?"

She nodded, sniffling and not looking at him.

"Do you remember how you kinda cussed me out?" Austin angled his head and leaned a tiny bit closer, "You dropped an f-bomb so fast it made my fucking head spin. Remember that?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, nodding again as the tears flowed.

"There's a _fire_ in you madam Ally. A fire that hasn't been put out regardless of the rain, regardless of the cold, and regardless of the suffocating darkness." Austin studied her sad features, "You're a badass deep down and I know because I'm a badass and we recognize our own kind."

And this time she laughed, her mouth widening into a grin. He smirked victoriously and stuck the Salem between his lips for a quick puff.

"So cut all this crying, self-deprecating shit out alright. You don't need it."

Ally wiped her face with her hands, minty green nails glinting. And when she looked at him it was with a gently sloping smile and eyes that were practically overflowing with tears and sorrow and just the slightest hint of adoration. Austin, whose breathing had almost completely ceased, felt his heart do this tremble thing that it hadn't done since he and Nina, a fellow homeless, penniless runaway he'd met in South Carolina in 2008, snuck into a closed hotel conference room to sleep for the night. Somehow, they'd ended up underneath the giant Maple wood table, butt ass naked and kissing. They'd bought and shared a sandwich earlier in the day and that night its plastic wrapping acted as a makeshift condom. It was her idea. He was 16 and a virgin while she was 14 and experienced enough for it to be very sad. Austin remembered staring into those eyes and wishing it wasn't so dark so he could fully see how green they were. And just as he tentatively relinquished his virginity, his heart had done the same firm tremoring in between its powerful thuds. Since then he'd never had that exact feeling, where exhilaration mixed with terror and curiosity and empathy, where the often neglected hunger for intimacy gnawed at his insides, where he teetered between being so unsure about something that he desperately wanted to run away and being so _very_ sure about it that his body refused to do such a thing. Not since Nina's emerald eyes and tragic promiscuity had his ribs caged such a brief but distinct flutter…until now, when there was this beautiful smile and a gaze the color of fertile soil sitting just a foot away.

"You're right." She sniffled, "You're right I just ugh usually I can write a song to make me feel better but my stupid stitches are making it kind of impossible right now and ugh! God." Ally wiped her face again as fresh rivulets flowed from her eyes. "I'm…" she trapped him in her gaze once more, "I'm just broken Austin."

"Yeah no shit." he grasped one of her swing's chains and pulled it slightly towards him with a comforting smile, "Join the club. There's a billion of us and we've got matching jackets."

He released her and she giggled tearfully as she swung side to side, east to west. Austin took one last draw from his cigarette and attempted to memorize the moment. Her movement slowed, the wind only gently teasing her curly hair. Sunlight bounced and shone against her watery eyes. And all of it danced, somehow, to the music of her laughter.

"How do you deal with it?" she asked him with another sniffle and a sweep of her hands across her cheeks. "Being broken."

"Drugs." He answered bluntly while flicking his finished cigarette to the earth and crushing it beneath his damp sneaker.

She clasped the swing's metal chains and when she spoke it was with a small and timid voice, "Are you talking about weed again?"

He grinned, "Kush mellows me out but it definitely doesn't keep the nightmares away."

She remained silent, biting her lip.

"Let me guess? Madam Ally never takes anything stronger than Children's Tylenol?"

This time she looked slightly offended, "Hey I've smoked weed once before. At MUNY there were people who did it all the time."

"And how'd you like it?"

"I didn't." she scrunched up her nose, "I couldn't stand the smell and it kind of killed my creativity."

"That's a first. You know how many musicians smoke pot _religiously_?"

"I guess it's not the same for everybody."

"Figures you'd be different."

"Yeah." She grew sad again. He watched her eyebrows draw together in concern. "Maybe I can try some of whatever you um…use?"

He regarded her skeptically, "…Are you being serious?"

She nodded just the same. Austin felt his mouth go dry with…what? Excitement? Uncertainty?

"Uh I mean yeah," the fingers of his right hand rushed through his blonde locks, "I can give you some stuff later on tonight if you want."

Ally frowned, "Wait but aren't you leaving soon?"

Ice water flooded his veins. How the fuck did he forget something like that? He thought of the text sitting read and without response in his phone. It was a simple 6-word question from Dez:

 _What time are you leaving Miami?_

Maybe it was because Nina's piercing green eyes were still fresh in his mind. Maybe it was Ally's beautiful sepia stare hurtling him back to his torturous past. Maybe it was because he was a fucking weirdo who kept a moist and crumpled Burger King napkin in his pocket just because it had the faintest smear of red on it. Whatever the reason, Austin opened his mouth to answer and nothing but bullshit came out.

"Oh uh no it turns out that show got cancelled too um they uh they still haven't fixed the sound problems."

And holy fucking shit fuck did he really just say that?!

"Oh wow. That's too bad. You'd think people who coordinated a music festival would be better at fixing that sort of stuff. I'm sorry Austin."

Yup, apparently he did just say that. His fingers practically tore his hair from the roots as they made a nervous pass across his scalp.

"It's cool. Don't sweat it. Whatever. Uhm-"

"Austin!" a voice suddenly called to him. They both looked towards the church's back door and there was Mimi waving her son over, "The reception's over and the limo's leaving! Let's go sweetheart! Hi Ally!"

The brunette gave his mom a little wave. "Hey Mrs. Moon!"

And when Mimi retreated back inside, Austin reclaimed Ally's eye contact immediately. A rosy blush crept slowly up her neck and he smirked despite the nervous tingles in his brain.

"Come outside at midnight okay?" he asked softly, half-expecting her to decline.

But she didn't.

"Okay." Ally whispered.

And with his gigantic lie hovering like a rain cloud, the blonde stood and started for the church doors.

A small hand suddenly grasped his, stopping him.

She stood close enough for traces of dragon fruit and coconut shampoo to waft from her brunette curls and infiltrate every sinus in his skull. And as she quickly stood on her tippy toes, drawing even nearer, his heart fell into a series of distinctive flutters. Those ruby lips, the ones he'd constantly lost himself in, puckered to kiss him an inch above the corner of his mouth. They were gentle enough to be tender, firm enough to be titillating, and trembling just enough to be Ally. Then, when her cherry red lips pulled away, they smiled before parting to speak.

"Dawson. That's my last name."

 **Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Sometimes even the smallest and simplest things yall say can spark ideas in my mind. Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys. My apologies for taking so long to update but sometimes when writer's block hits it also body slams. Anywho, thank you again and again and again for all the positive feedback. To** Artist Renegade21 **it means so much to me that someone who usually finds stories containing drug use unbelievable has deemed mine realistic. Making the story realistic in all aspects is something I always strive for when I write and I'm so glad it's translating and all the research I've done has paid off. Also you managed to give me another tattoo idea for later so thanks for that. To** AustinR5Ally **you read my mind *wink wink*. To** orayofsunshine **I also thought Ally would go to the festival with Austin (seemed more realistic in my opinion) but there are things I need them to say and do that wouldn't have been said or done if they ran off into the sunset together right now. To the** Guest **who has the song "From Eden" on repeat I think I love you and maybe we should marry? And for everyone else who is wondering how the story will end (will it be auslly or end tragically like my other stories?) all I can say is that I don't want to force anything to happen that I don't think should happen. I'll remind everyone that this story is based line for line on the first verse and the chorus of the song "From Eden" and it'll end in a way that I believe is fitting for the line of the song it's inspired by. Aaaaand that's all you get. On to the story!**

 ** _"_** ** _Idealism sits in prison. Chivalry fell on its sword."_**

Ally Dawson.

It was a sugary sweet, goody-two-shoes name if he'd ever heard one.

 _Ally Dawson_.

Somehow though it embodied eyes the color of creamless-coffee. Somehow that name was all Spring twilight and harmonica-heavy blues songs. There were softly puckered lips in that name, as red as nature's ripest raspberries and pressing just 2 and a half centimeters above the corner of his mouth.

It followed him, echoing in the back of his mind as his relatives argued in the limo.

Gerald was struggling to maintain his composure, "I just don't believe you Diane."

"Dad they weren't mine." She replied tensely.

"Then whose were they? Where did you get cigarettes from if you claim to have quit smoking?"

Austin's aunt shot her only nephew a discrete but venomous look before facing her father, "I got them from one of the guests so your grandson would stop pestering everyone."

"Diane." Tess fixed her 47 year old daughter with a no nonsense combination of narrowed eyes and condescending tone, "I **_saw_** you pull the cigarettes from your purse and give them to Austin."

Here the blonde guitarist shot his mom a wide grin and an eyebrow wiggle because the plot had just fucking thickened! Mike's older sister was caught in a blatant lie and silence settled over them all like a wool blanket. Austin's brown eyes bounced between the angry members of his extended family with an almost child-like enjoyment. It was the limo gently pulling off that jostled them lightly and pierced the tension.

Diane sighed in defeat, "Okay fine they're mine. I still smoke. The cat's out of the bag."

With that the three of them launched into a full blown argument. It was entertaining at first but Austin eventually lost interest. Listening to a middle-aged woman be scolded like she was a teenager gave him some serious second-hand frustration. He had to focus on the passing scenery to keep from spouting off the first ballsy comment that came to mind. Beyond the glass, Miami surprisingly didn't look as shitty as he remembered. Every block of that beach town was crammed with cheap looking convenience stores and narrow sidewalks littered with cracks and debris but, somehow, it gave the area character. Even the sky was a more brilliant cerulean blue than he could ever recall it being as it peeked out between white wisps above. He watched as palm trees that usually stood brown and weathered, now swayed with a kind of tropical elegance completely unheard of in "The Magic City". Austin chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully, and with some concern, because there was a simple name tickling the underside of his brain and turning the town he hated into something wonderful.

"So are you and Ally getting close?"

His gaze flickered to his mother who'd managed to kind of speak his thoughts aloud. Mimi regarded him with a knowing smile as she attempted to ignore her in-laws' squabbling.

"Sure." He agreed with an air of nonchalance, "We've already made plans to elope and move to France."

"Very funny." She replied, "No son of mine is getting married without his mother present."

"You do realize I got married in Virginia like 2 years ago right?"

"What?" she exclaimed, eyebrows rushing to her hairline.

"Her name's Ansley. She has a 4 year old named Gavin."

"….Are you being funny?"

"I take holy matrimony very seriously mom."

The limo slowed to a stop in front of their house and she was completely silent. Her pale blue eyes stared at him in horrified astonishment. Then, with a desperate quickness, she leaned closer and lowered her voice.

"Austin Monica Moon I swear to God if you're telling the truth about this."

His face broke into a grin, "Relaaaax Mimi I'm kidding."

"Ugh." His mom sighed in great relief, even pressing her hand to her heart dramatically, "Oh thank God." Then she was swatting his arm, "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Austin just laughed as their driver opened the door, "After you."

With one last playful slap on the shoulder, she climbed out of the limousine. He followed. Gerald, Tess, and Diane's argument had evolved into a dramatic retelling of every disappointing thing Austin's aunt had ever done. The elder Moon's were lamenting Diane's rocky divorce as Austin grabbed his jacket and tie and quickly escaped.

Mimi yawned silently as they entered the house. Their air conditioning hadn't quite caught up with the climbing temperature yet so the foyer was slightly stuffy. Nothing a ceiling fan and an open window couldn't fix.

"I think I'm going to take a little nap. It's been a long day." She said as they both shuffled past the kitchen and towards the living room.

"Okay." he mumbled.

"You said you were leaving for Atlanta today right?" she asked.

And again his blood turned to red ice for 2 full seconds.

"Uh yeah in a few hours." Austin lied.

"Well wake me before you leave."

"Yeah sure okay."

"Are you alright little p-..um Austin?"

"I'm fine..." and then, after a beat, "…you okay?"

He asked it cautiously, veeery cautiously, as the carpet whispered beneath their shoes and the AC unit hummed laboriously because he had a sneaking suspicion she was going to say 'no' then fall to pieces.

"Yeah." She finally said, as if them reaching the center of the family room was her cue to speak. Mimi faced him, her hair still perfectly curled and her makeup still immaculate despite the previous tearful hours. She gave him one of those deep sighs that she seemed to be doing more often, the kind that left her deflated and dulled her blondeness and made her blue eyes more icy than he liked.

"I'm fine."

Austin didn't believe it for a second.

"Good." He gave her what he hoped was a warm smile. Whether it appeared genuine or not he couldn't be sure. The past 2 days had awakened fresh memories and he found it a little difficult to comfort this woman who'd betrayed him so callously in his youth.

She returned his smile with a despondency that was well hidden but not invisible. Although Mimi had had a lot of practice containing her sadness, she was no expert at it. What human being could ever truly be?

They parted ways without another word, the new widow clicking into her room in 5 inch pumps and gently closing the door behind her, the fatherless 23-year old continuing down the hall and turning left into his childhood sanctuary. Austin didn't even give his tacky posters a glance as he tossed the suit jacket and the black tie in a corner then immediately began shedding his still damp clothes. The white button up was practically still see through as it peeled from his tan skin and flopped to the floor. He kneeled down to untie his sneakers, pulling off one, tossing it, pulling off the other, and, in a shockingly sudden fit of anger, hurling it across the room. It thwacked loudly against the wall and left a small scuff mark.

What the FUCK was he doing?!

Austin ran both hands through his hair and gripped it in frustrated fistfuls.

"Shit." he whispered under his breath, "Fuck shit fuck. Shit!"

He was stuck in Miami another fucking day. He was missing yet another day of his own personal paradise.

And it was all because of her.

Because of her he wouldn't be up on stage at OHA attacking his guitar strings until they screamed and the crowd lost its collective sanity. He wouldn't be singing the words of an ingenious red head who fed revenge sandwiches to cats and was a master of metaphor.

Because of her he was foregoing the chance to play rock and roll in a space where it was embraced like a prodigal child. Music was the most essential element after air, water, and food. It was the only love of his life and he'd tossed it to the side all in a moment of idiocy.

Austin yanked off his soaking wet socks.

Who the fuck was he kidding? Ally was enchanting but she hadn't forced him to do anything. That was his own brain growing dizzy and careless in her presence. That was his mouth forming whatever senseless words it needed to if it meant keeping her close and maintaining that wonderful vertigo. 2 days ago he was just seeing her for the very first time in his life, and yet she was already making the Miami sky bluer and scrambling his priorities and sending quivers through his heart.

Austin began to unbuckle his belt.

He hated that she could control him so completely. It had taken years of hardship and self-reliance to become the man he was and _that_ Austin would never abandon his lifelong dream for some fucking chick. Yet there he was, immersing himself in her mahogany brown eyes, wandering the sweet haven of her lips, and losing himself with each passing day. He hated it.

And for one brief but ugly moment, he hated _her_.

But that shameful second passed and the anger went with it. In its place, the shitty sludge of self-hatred slimed against his insides. He removed his cell and wallet from the pockets, tossing them both on the desk before shoving his pants down and stepping out of them. He was weak. He'd been strong nearly all his life and now he was weak for some crybaby brunette who didn't even know what 'blazing' entailed. Austin pulled his wet boxer briefs off.

He was weary. He wanted to copy his mom and take a long nap but the residual coke kept him wide awake. Fully nude and still disappointed in himself, Austin dug slowly through his suitcase. Back in VA he'd kept it simple, tossing a random assortment of tops, bottoms, undies, and drugs into the bag. Now, rummaging through the unplanned wardrobe, he seemed to be finding more little baggies of contraband than underwear. When he finally did find a pair of grey boxer briefs, Austin pulled them on over his clammy flesh then snatched up the first little ziplock bag he could see. His brown eyes studied it for a moment. There was a small collection of white powder contained in the clear plastic. He tried to picture her pressing one slender pointer finger, adorned with mint nail polish and a simple gold ring, to her left nostril and leaning forward, red lips closed, as she inhaled deeply enough to draw a single white line into her sinuses. It was a dark and foreign image that Austin found oddly enticing. He lightly bit his bottom lip and shifted to prevent the mild stiffening that threatened his dick.

Fuck.

He was so weak.

Austin tossed the coke back into his suitcase. The only other drugs he brought were a few different kinds of weed and she'd already told him that she wasn't a fan. He doubted Ally would want to sit around and smoke a bowl. With dampness lingering at the roots of his hair, he went to the corner of the room and grabbed his Gibson. A sigh escaped him as he plopped down in the desk chair and sunk low. The guitar was a familiar, comforting weight in his lap and against his abs. He positioned his fingers with the muscle memory of a well-practiced player. The first chord rang out clear but a little off. He set to work tuning his instrument.

Sooner or later he'd have to break the bad news. He could call the guys and feed them some bullshit about Roxanne not wanting to crank or whatever. Gavin, Dez, and especially Jace, would be thoroughly pissed and with good reason. He'd be abandoning them yet again. They'd probably scream and cuss the shit out of him because what was Flesh & Bone without its frontman? Who the hell was going to want to sign a band with some semi-decent 17 year old guitarist named Tucker grinning with a mouth full of braces and tripping over the quicker melodies? Yeah, the guys would be furious no matter how valid his fake excuse seemed. But eventually, that difficult phone call would end. They'd forgive him tomorrow when he hit the road for real and found his way back to Atlanta and what really mattered. Tomorrow their band would rock the entire festival into oblivion, get a multi-million dollar record deal, and live famously ever after. On the other hand, he could go to Ally and tell her that he couldn't stay after all. It'd be easy enough to explain that the sound problems had finally been fixed and that the band needed him desperately. He plucked the thickest string on his guitar to send a low E out into the room. Not quite liking it, Austin continued to twist the appropriate tuners as his mind ran the scenario. With her there'd be no 'tomorrow', no 'eventually', only a wounded look on her face. He thought about their first encounter and the way Ally stared right through him in complete devastation. What if he told her he was leaving Miami forever and her eyes began to gloss with tears again? What if his words sent her racing back to that far off place of white knuckles and emotional ruin? Just seeing her in such a state on Thursday was enough to unnerve the hell out of him, but actually becoming the cause of it was a different animal entirely.

He was fucking kidding himself.

When he did gather enough courage to take action, Austin already knew who he'd be bailing on. And the realization reawakened his anger. The Gibson still wasn't fully tuned but he began to play with forceful and tense fingers. Harsh riffs pushed against every corner of the room. It was a song called "Keeping Her Too Long" and definitely one of Flesh & Bone's more angsty tracks. Dez had written it a year into Didi's chemo when she was frail with unsuccessful radiation and still riddled with tumors. The lyrics toed a fine line between wanting to hang on for dear life and the paralyzing fear that letting go might be better. His playing was clumsy and a little flat but he kept going, riding out the melody while singing the words in his head. And when the last note hummed away, Austin glanced down at his umbrella tattoo. He was strong. He was remarkable.

With a sigh, he snatched up his phone and quickly dialed Dez's number. His fingers ached as he listened to the soft rings and prayed they went unanswered.

"Hey Austin what's up?"

"Hey what're you guys up to?"

"Well they're all at the hotel pool but you know the sun and my skin don't really love each other so I'm at some bar downtown with this band we met the other day."

"Oh cool. What band?"

"Their called "The Awkwardians". Heard of them?"

"Uuuumm I think I've heard one song of theirs called "Anxiety" or "Anxious" or something like that. It was okay."

"I never heard of them until we got here. But it's 2 guys and 2 really hot girls. They're all pretty cool."

"Hmmm should I tell Trish about your new hot friends?"

"Dude don't even joke about that. That little mamacita will have my fucking head if she thinks I'm even LOOKING at another girl."

Austin chuckled, "You're such a pussy."

"Yeah well I'd rather be a live pussy instead of a dead one."

"That'd make an interesting band name. The Dead Pussies."

"Their debut album would be called "Vagina Funerals Are Weird" featuring their hit single "Cold Lips"."

"Their hit single "Really Awkward Sex"."

"Their smash hit song "Coochie Coffins"."

Austin burst out laughing, "I'm fucking done with you."

"You wouldn't buy their album?"

"I would buy all the copies of that album."

Dez chuckled loudly, "The Dead Pussies go double platinum."

"You're an idiot."

"Whatever. How was the funeral?"

The blonde shrugged, "I don't know. It was a funeral."

"You alright?"

"Yeah I guess."

"On the road yet?"

He hesitated.

"Uuuummmmm not exactly…"

"Fuck." The red head sighed, "What now?"

"Uh it's…" Austin cleared his throat and tried to sound frustrated and exhausted, "It's Roxy dude. Fucking piece of shit won't start. I'm trying to find a mechanic right now."

Another exasperated sigh, "You're KIDDING me."

Austin's stomach lurched uncomfortably at the sound. Dez was one of the few people he never ever wanted to disappoint. He swallowed the sour taste that was filling his mouth.

"It's fucking ridiculous right!? I really wish I was kidding but I tried it for like 15 minutes and it just- I even tried jumping it with my mom's car but no luck. So I went to Walmart and bought a new battery but she still isn't cranking."

"Aus it's like-" there was a short pause, "-2:30 right now. If you don't hit the road within the next half hour then you're not gonna make it you know that right?"

Austin sighed defeatedly because of course he knew that. But somehow he'd stopped caring the minute Ally looked at him all teary-eyed and his heart quivered as if it was the very first intimate moment he'd ever experienced.

"I know I know." He ran a free hand down his face, "That's why I called you I-I really don't think I'm gonna make it dude. I wanted to be out of here at least an hour ago but.." his stomach churned violently, "…I just can't."

Dez went silent for so long that Austin thought he'd hung up. His ears strained to pick up any trace of the ginger's breathing and when his freckled bandmate did finally speak, it nearly scared the shit out of him.

"Austin," Dez's voice was gentle but totally serious, "I understand if…Roxy…is broken and doesn't want to move. She's been through a lot so it makes sense she'd breakdown every once in a while."

The blonde was perplexed by his best friend's sudden change in tone. He frowned in confusion, "Yeeaaahhh…?"

"Austin." The red head spoke calmly yet deliberately as if trying to be both supportive and firm, "Just _fix_ whatever it is that's _broken_ and get here as fast as possible okay. We need you here. Don't forget that."

Austin's shoulders sagged and his lips parted in sudden realization.

Dez knew.

He _knew_.

Maybe not that there was a bandaged right hand with mint green fingernails gripping Austin by the heart, but the ginger was astute enough to realize that something much more profound than a stubborn Roxanne was trapping their lead vocalist in Miami. It was just like Dez to think up "Coochie Coffins" one minute then exhibit an amazing perceptiveness the next. Austin felt sick.

"When's the next show?"

"Tomorrow at 9:30pm."

He raked his fingers through his hair and attempted to keep a steady voice.

"I'll get there Dez. I'll fix Roxy and I'll get there."

"Ok dude. Keep me posted alright."

"Yeah."

"Later."

"Bye."

They hung up and Austin didn't even hesitate to toss his cell on the bed, set the Gibson aside, and spark up a bowl. Normally he stuck to just rolling blunts, maybe even a weed pancake or two, but his stomach hurt and anxiety was prickling down his back. He didn't have the patience to roll let alone fucking cook. The bowl itself was a gift from the party animals he called roommates. It was matte black porcelain, shaped like an owl, and sporting a gold beak. Austin hastily stuffed the wide eye sockets with some of his milder Mary Jane and ignited it. And for the next few hours he didn't give a shit about ANYTHING. Instead of worrying over festivals or Ally Dawson, he shut himself in his bedroom, blazing and rocking out. Austin finished tuning his guitar with lungs full of smoke and began to play Flesh & Bone's entire set. He moved about the space, sometimes strumming gently and sometimes jamming recklessly as greyish wisps curled and swayed around him like a worshipping audience dancing to the rhythm. He played for himself. He played to soothe his soul and quiet the skeletons banging on his closet door. And once he'd run through every song they had and the owl's eyes no longer smoldered, Austin started again from the top. He was lightheaded from the high, from the music. The guitarist made it halfway through his second round of Flesh & Bone's comprehensive song list before his stomach roared its desires. Where the coke depressed his appetite, the weed stoked it like a brush fire. He set the guitar down, leaning it against the desk with an immovable grin. God he was so happy he'd chosen music over fucking mattresses, even if his hands did feel like they'd never stop hurting. Austin grabbed his cell to check the time. It was almost 6 o'clock.

Opening the door, fresh air rushed in from the hallway and diluted the veritable hot box he'd created. His eyes, half-lidded and red, slid just a little down the hall to Mimi's room. Her door was still closed. He lumbered to the kitchen, flexing his sore hands. Their fridge, stuffed to bursting with various dishes, was almost a pot-head's dream come true. Austin was starving and really not very picky at the moment. He lifted a few lids and peeked under some foil but eventually chose a meatloaf and something else that looked like it might have bacon in it. Austin leaned against the counter watching as 2 giant hunks of each rotated slowly in the stainless steel microwave. He stared, almost hypnotized by the lazy spinning and the gentle hum. Then, all at once, the machine beeped, snapping him back to awareness and telling him that he'd been zoned out for 3 minutes straight. Maybe that weed wasn't so mild.

He made his way to the table, fork and plate in hand. Then, after setting both down, went back to the fridge for a can of PBR. His father was a jerk to him for a long time, the least Austin could do was drink up all of the old man's beer. His aching fingers popped the can open and he took a big swig as his bare feet slid against the tiled floor. Cotton mouth was seriously no joke and that hipster lager bullshit was suddenly like crisp, ice cold water from a fucking magic stream or something. Austin plopped down in his chair with a satisfied exhale and a manly belch.

The meatloaf was okay and the bacon-thing was pretty good but both were scalding hot around the edges and only warm in the center. Still, he devoured it like a fancy 5-star dinner and played around on his phone in between large bites. Among the few new Twitter followers he had, the infamous Ansley was one of them. Under the name "jEsSiCa_RabBiT426" she posed, bikini-clad and seductive, in her avi. Austin followed her back and began to scroll through her tweet history just for the simple fact that he wasn't totally in his right mind. He'd thoroughly exhausted his Twitter feed, checked every new post on Instagram, and practically licked his plate clean before rifling through the fridge in search of the Dawson's Boston cream pie. At his slow, marijuana-induced pace, it took him forever to find it. The glass dish was hiding behind a broccoli casserole and a vanilla poundcake. As Austin cut himself a nice big slice he wondered just how much Ally had contributed to the baking. But where his mind usually lingered on the brunette, now he was flying too high to think of one subject for very long.

He sat back at the table with his pie and began scrolling uninterestedly through Facebook. He'd taken 2 bites of the dessert and drained the last couple drops of beer when Mimi suddenly came shuffling into the kitchen in her bedroom slippers and wrinkled funeral dress. He watched her walk to the fridge.

"Hey can you grab me another beer?"

She yawned as she gripped the can and carried it over to him.

"I figured you'd be gone by now."

"Gig got cancelled." He cracked the PBR open.

"Oh…I'm sorry." She had her back to him as she dug through the various dishes in the refrigerator but he could hear the smile in her voice. The weed kept his temper in check though, prompting him to mumble "Yeah" around a mouthful of pie instead of spouting off a stream of foul language. And with that Mimi grabbed herself a bottle of water then retreated from the kitchen with a disheveled mop of hair and another yawn.

He finished the dessert and the beer in silence.

His bed welcomed him back with sheets and pillow that somehow felt softer than usual against his naked skin. Austin's belly was full and his subconscious was nice and quiet. He drifted off to sleep quickly with the lyrics to "Anxiety" or "Anxious" or whatever it was called running through his mind. His dreams were vivid and littered with black felt hats and harmonicas. The ocean was the sky and the sky was the smoothest ocean known to man, supporting mountains of white powder because the laws of physics were fluid.

Austin awoke with a snort to pitch blackness. His eyes cracked partially open and stared up to the dark ceiling as if hunting for stars. Then, suddenly, with a jerk of his arm and with dread winding around his spine, he snatched up his cell to check the time. It was 11:34pm. He relaxed but only somewhat.

He had 26 minutes.

Austin rolled, literally, out of bed as fast as his sleep-heavy limbs would allow. The AC had fully cooled the house and he felt goosebumps rush the length of his bare torso as it registered the temperature. A yawn, loud and long, built then burst from him as he dragged himself to the bathroom. The reflection staring back at him seemed tired everywhere except his eyes, which were brown and bright as if anticipating something exciting. The blonde rat's nest atop his head looked as though all of the rats had evacuated in a panicked rush. His shoulders sagged and his mouth barely moved even as he scrubbed the taste of weed from his teeth and tongue. There was THC lingering in his system and, really, all he wanted to do was eat and go back to bed but there was something far too important approaching. He finger-combed his hair into submission until it lay down with the proper ratio of messy to neat. The time was 11: 41 as Austin hurried back to the bedroom and threw on some light grey joggers, a black and white Henley, and his black Vans. Then a pivotal question roused him:

What drugs to bring?

He'd brought plenty and he'd brought a variety. His stronger stuff was supposed to be for the wild Atlanta nights at OHA though. Ally was the definition of amateur and he definitely didn't want to melt her brain with his heavy hitters. He ultimately decided on a baggie of coke that was full enough for them to split it 60/40 and a small supply of his second mildest weed, just in case she decided to give Mary Jane another shot. He stuffed the owl bowl in his pocket as well instead of rolling papers, thinking the animal shape might appeal to Ally more. He grabbed his wallet, lighter, cell, and car keys before heading into the bathroom once more for a last minute mirror check. Suddenly hating everything about his hair, Austin quickly threw a black Mötley Crüe snapback on backwards. One more glance at his reflection and he was out of his room and in the hallway where a sound struck him immediately.

Mimi was crying.

Her door was still closed but the sobs carried through like it was made of silk instead of wood. That sore spot of his was practically SCREAMING as he crept past but he bit his bottom lip and ignored it. He didn't have the patience, the know-how, or even, to his own slight disappointment, the real _desire_ to piece his mother back together at 11:55 at night.

Outside, the weather had come full circle, now chilly as the morning had been and just as heavy with imminent rainfall. He wouldn't be surprised if the heavens opened up at any moment and wept. He thought of being in a car with Ally again as rain pattered around them and licked his lips. The night was young.

It was the first time he'd been in Roxanne since arriving in Miami and it kind of felt like stepping foot back in Virginia where he belonged. He tossed the candy bar wrappers and empty McDonald's coffee cups to the backseat. It was 11:57 when he cranked the car up and slowly backed out of the driveway. He rolled past where it'd all began, the puke and the stop sign, then hung a right. It was really like déjà vu as Austin cruised through the neighborhood. His eyes weaved in and out of shadows, searching for the color he always seemed to be searching for. Again his gaze flickered from abandoned tricycles to blooming rosebushes to fancy cars. But none of them were the right red, none of them were the Beetle he suddenly spotted squatting in the distance. Roxy's clock read 11:59 in glowing green as he slowed to a stop just before the Dawson's driveway. His Honda grew immediately silent as he killed the engine. In fact, the entire world around him seemed to go completely quiet. It was as if everyone and everything was waiting too for something dark but intimate to occur. Austin's eyes, the color of coffee grounds or worn leather, regarded the house on his right. And in an instant the nerves pounced on him like a vicious predator. What the fuck was he so apprehensive about? Like he hadn't done much worse things with much worse girls. He inhaled deeply and puffed his cheeks out on the exhale.

It was 12:00.

And then 12:01.

Then 12:02.

He watched the navy blue door open slowly, its gold mail slot and knocker glinting in the moonlight. Ally emerged cautiously at first until she spotted his car. His nerves flared all over again and he took another deep, cheek-puffing breath to calm himself.

It was just coke.

It was just Ally.

But that last thought didn't really help much because apparently "just Ally" was enough to rival the best rock and roll festival on the east coast.

"What the fuck are we doing?" Austin mumbled to himself as the 20 year old who'd only tried weed once and hated it approached his beat up old Honda with trepidation. She was wearing grey leggings and a turquoise sweatshirt and, despite his slight uncertainty, his eyes gave those shapely legs of hers an appreciative glance.

"Um hi." She bent at the waist to speak through the open passenger window. A shy smile played at her lips.

"Good evening Miss Dawson." Austin couldn't help the charming grin that spread across his face. She was beautiful.

"You gonna get in?" he asked after a quiet moment.

Her big brown eyes quickly surveyed the front seat's black vinyl. He'd moved all of the Burger King bags and crumpled receipts to the back but she still made no move to enter the car.

"Where're we going?" her voice was gentle and hesitant.

"Nowhere." He answered, "I assumed you wouldn't be comfortable coming to my house, doing this in my bedroom…"

She shook her head no.

"…or inviting me into _your_ house, doing this in _your_ bedroom…"

Another, more enthusiastic, headshake.

"…so I figured we'd sit out here in my car and if you feel…overwhelmed…or uncomfortable, you're already home."

Even though they'd kissed and she'd begun to open up to him, Austin hadn't forgotten how she pushed him when the touch of his hand felt terrifyingly good, or the way she continued to dodge his questions. Ally still didn't fully trust him and the last thing he wanted to do was scare her off for good. So he waited for the brunette to either accept or reject his offer.

The sound of Roxy's door clicking open was like sweetness for his eardrums. She settled into the passenger seat, hesitating only a second before closing the door.

"Thanks," she pulled her sleeves over her hands and fidgeted with them, "for being so considerate."

"No sweat." Then he smirked, "Is that what you wear to cross over to the dark side?"

She looked down at her white scarf with its grey polka dots and her floral-printed Birkenstocks. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing Skywalker, I'm just fucking with you."

She leaned stiffly back into the seat as pink slathered her cheeks. He watched her without really meaning to. Her hair was up in a sloppy high ponytail that still held some of that morning's curls. Suddenly he wanted to know all of the secrets she kept in that musical brain of hers. He wanted to explore her and discover her and make her blush hard for all their intimacy, both emotional and physical. But instead of acting on these urges and undoubtedly frightening the shit out of her, Austin began pulling items from his pockets.

"Okay so I brought coke." He held up the tiny plastic baggy, watching her eyes grow wider before setting it down on the middle armrest.

"Coke like…" she swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper, "…cocaine?"

This time he didn't laugh or tease her for being so oblivious because her hands had found the seat cushion and were beginning to grip it tightly. Austin stared.

"You sure you want to do this Ally?"

Her eyes were glued to the white powder. Her mouth moved as if trying to form words, finally stuttering out a soft "I-I..I don't…"

There was doubt oozing from her undeniably and Austin felt the smallest flash of irritation behind his ribcage. He didn't want to be mad, but he'd given up a day at OHA for this very moment. She wasn't aware of that and she had never asked him too but he'd still abandoned his best friends just because Ally seemed to need him so badly. The blonde ran a hand through his hair and forced himself to remain calm.

She bit her lip and nodded, "Yes I'm sure."

And that hint of frustration subsided immediately. He looked at her until she made eye contact with him, her brown irises nearly black in the night. Her lips moved again.

"I'm sure."

Thoroughly impressed, he sent her a smirk, "Dawson the badass."

She giggled and sent his heart soaring up through Roxanne's roof.

"Oh yeah I brought weed too."

Ally scrunched up her nose unsurely as her hands relaxed.

"I know, I know, you didn't like it that one time but I still brought some just in case you wanted to give it another go."

"Hmmm…I don't know Austin-"

"Just think about it. We'll do our lines and then if you wanna spark up we can."

She nodded in agreement before lowering her gaze to the plastic baggy again. The contents were stark white just like the bandaging on her right hand.

"Can you show me what to do?" Ally peeked up at him through thick lashes.

Austin reached into his cluttered backseat and grabbed an old Rolling Stone magazine with the irresistible Rihanna on the cover. He ripped out one of the little cologne sample inserts.

"Well it's pretty much like you see in the movies." He began to roll the insert into a short tube then paused, "…you _have_ seen a movie with this kind of thing in it right?"

Ally gave him a pointed look, "I'm not all sunshine and rainbows Austin. I've seen Pulp Fiction _and_ Scarface."

His eyebrows rose high in amusement, "Have you now?"

"Well…only because they were my ex's favorites. Otherwise I wouldn't be caught dead watching that stuff." She diverted her eyes as if a thought had just occurred to her, "Maybe I _am_ all sunshine and rainbows."

"You strike me as a chick-flick kind of girl."

Ally thought about it for a second then scoffed with a defeated shake of her head, "Ugh I totally am."

Austin chuckled as he rolled the tube tighter and began smoothing out the magazine's cover, "It's not necessarily a bad thing. Although I will say there are some non-chick-flicks out there that are fucking amazing."

"Like what?" she smiled as if she just couldn't _wait_ to hear this.

"Like the ENTIRE Zaliens franchise." He set the Rolling Stone on the armrest and started opening the baggy, "Well except maybe Zaliens 6, that one sucked ass. But all the others are awesome. There's action, violence, zombies, aliens…what more could you want?"

Ally rolled her eyes playfully, "Geez you remind me of my ex when you say that."

"Sounds like a cool guy." He dumped the snowy white powder right on Rihanna's face. "What's his name?"

There was a very familiar pause. And then Ally turned sideways in the seat to face him.

"So it's _just_ like the movies then?" she asked.

"Yup." The blonde pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He opened it just enough to remove an empty Walmart giftcard and a dollar bill but not enough for her to see his shitty driver's license photo.

Ally was silent as he used the card to create 2 white lines, one larger than the other. This was her very first time and he didn't want to overwhelm her virgin sinuses. The blonde was methodical about it, his gaze focusing intently on the glossy magazine and chalky powder, his pink bottom lip tucked gently beneath his teeth. His fingers moved far more delicately than they did when finessing guitar strings or making some lucky girl's night. They cradled the blue plastic and cut noiselessly into the snowy mound until it was neatly organized. And when Austin looked up, Ally was staring at him. Not the coke. _Him_.

He wouldn't realize it until days later but the brunette would have let him kiss her right then and there. She was enthralled by his quiet intensity in that moment, especially on something that was so alien and so dangerous to her. And when he looked up with a seriousness in his brown eyes her heart fluttered in fondness and fear. Yeah, he definitely could've kissed her then. She might've even let him touch her face without succumbing to terror. But he didn't. And the opportunity was lost.

"Um that smaller one is mine right?" she pointed a slender finger and gave him a sheepish smile.

He grinned and held out the paper tube, "Yes madam Ally."

She took it, "I hope you don't think that nickname is an insult because I actually sort of like it. So there."

Her facial expression was teasing and a little defiant. It was that inner fire Austin enjoyed so much, just barely breaching the surface. He chuckled as he rolled the dollar bill into a tube for himself.

"Good to know." And then the 23 year old became slightly serious, "Okay you ready for this?"

"Ummm…" she looked down at the lines apprehensively, all traces of humor gone, "…you can go first."

"Alright." He replied, "Just so you know, smoking this in rock form is the fastest method in terms of onset of effects." He tapped the magazine with his fingertip, "Snorting powder is the second."

"What's the third?"

"I think eating it or something. Fuck if I know."

"What does it feel like?"

That one he had to think about. Working with a 10th grade education, Austin found it difficult to come up with something other than 'good' or its various synonyms. So he thought back to 2013 and the very first time he'd gotten a taste of pearl. Needless to say it was the 21st birthday to end ALL 21st birthdays. He was pretty wasted by the time the white horse was galloping up his nose but he distinctly remembered the sensation.

"I think it's a little different for everyone but…." He frowned, contemplating his next words, "…for me it's kind of like a jolt. It's like tiny little static shocks," his finger touched the left side of his nose and began to slowly drag upwards until it stopped directly between his eyebrows, "all the way up. And it's fast. And then it spreads," All 5 of his fingers splayed across his forehead, "like a soundwave…like a bunch of soundwaves actually and in rapid succession. You'll probably squeeze your eyes shut for that part. And by the time it all settles, a minute has passed and you're on your way up."

She was captivated, "How long are you um I guess 'high' for?"

"Hmm I'd say the actual high from a single line only lasts about 15 to 20 minutes before you start coming down. But usually you do more than one line back to back if you wanna maintain the high."

"A-are _we_ doing multiple lines?"

"That depends."

"On…?"

"On how you handle the first one."

And if Austin could see through clothes he would've noticed goosebumps racing across Ally's arms. She just nodded.

"Alright." He began to lean over the armrest, "Just watch me."

Another silent, wide-eyed nod.

Austin made it look so easy. He didn't even really need the dollar but he placed it gently in his nose anyway, wanting Ally to have a good visual example. The paper had that distinct musk unique to US currency. And as he occluded his left nostril and inhaled deeply with his right, the scent poured into his nasal cavity along with a nice dusting of cocaine. Once he reached the end of the line, Austin sat up straight, sniffling like a kid with a cold. He pinched and rubbed at his nose as prickles filled his entire head like an angry beehive. He squeezed his eyes shut for a very brief moment then opened them as the buzzing receded and that awesome freeing feeling closed over him. Ally was staring at him again but this time with a frown of intense concentration.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

A grin, wide and already euphoric, spread across his face, "Piece of fucking cake."

Despite the skeptical eyebrow raise, she carefully scooted closer to the armrest and began to position her own little tube.

"Any last minute advice?" her voice tremored as she stared down at the white stuff.

Austin pressed a hand over his accelerating heart rate, "Uh well once you start inhaling the line try to keep going until you reach the end. One breath. And you'll probably feel like coughing as it gets into your airway. It'll be tough but try to resist that reflex as best as you can."

With that, the blonde leaned back against the door and simply regarded her with half-lidded eyes. He thought she'd be super hesitant but it seemed like Ally was desperate to do the deed before all of her courage completely disappeared.

It was almost exactly like he'd imagined it.

She leaned forward, the honey blonde tips of her ponytail sweeping forward and sliding over the magazine. The mint green of her nail glinted under invading streetlight as she pressed a fingertip firmly to the left side of her nose. Her pink lips formed a tight line and what was once a perfume sample insert crept just a few centimeters into her right nostril. He couldn't stop watching if he wanted to. They were all alone out there in that slumbering neighborhood. And she seemed to be moving in slow motion either from his own lustful imagination or his drug-addled cognition. Hell, it was probably both. But it took Ally…Allyson, his mysterious brunette…less than one second to draw the blow into her lungs. Her entire body heaved right at the end as she stifled some serious coughs but still managed to complete the entire line. She sat up immediately and with breakneck speed, flinging the tube on the floor and reaching for her nose, swiping and pinching and rubbing as she sniffled like her brain itself was trying to escape out of her nasal cavity. He stared as her eyes shut as tight as they possibly could, just like he'd predicted. She began to cough violently.

"Austin!" she choked out his name in between barks with the desperation of someone lost and afraid.

He played with the rolled up dollar between his fingertips but made no other movements.

"Shhh Ally relax. This part'll be over in a second." His voice was so cool and calm it was soothing for her frazzled mind. Ally began to relax. Her eyes popped open, staring past Austin and out the driver side window. She sniffled less frantically, she wiped at her nostrils like an old pro.

"This part'll be over in a second." He mumbled to himself as his pupils dilated.

The brunette across from him released one last half-hearted cough before her hands dropped to her lap like dead weight. And when the brownest brown eyes slid over to Austin it was with slowly drooping lids.

"Well?" he asked expectantly.

"Geez Louise." She breathed, "I thought I was dying."

"You think I'd let that happen?"

Ally continued to speak as if he hadn't said anything, "You were right. Static." She lifted a fingertip to trail up the bridge of her nose, "All the way up. Fast. But here," she splayed her hand across her forehead, "it was soundwaves _and_ earthquakes…..and fireworks I think." A smile, maybe the most genuine one she'd ever offered, crept lazily across her face.

Sitting up, Austin grinned right back, "That's quite a combo madam Ally."

"I know right?" she laughed.

He picked up the Walmart card and started cutting himself another line. Typically he tried to avoid slamming blow back to back because, in his mind, that was the first step to addiction. But something about being there with Ally as she climbed these specific heights for the first time excited him and chased away his reservations.

"Whatcha doing?" she pursed her lips and blinked.

"Another line."

"I want another."

"Hell no."

"Pleeeaaaase."

"No." he set the card aside.

"Pleeeaaaaaaaaaaase!"

"Fuck! Stop, that shit is annoying."

"Please Austin." She regarded him with sweetly begging eyes that were all big black pupil rimmed with chocolate brown.

He released a defeated sigh before snatching up the giftcard again, "Fine whatever."

"Yes!" Ally pumped her fist like a child.

He grinned.

She snorted her new line with the exact same combination of unintentional sensuality, desperate panic, and cool relaxation. He watched with his own second line already filtering into his bloodstream as her hands began to swipe at her nostrils with less urgency. Her spastic phase was a little shorter this time around and Ally collapsed against the passenger door with all the grace of a corpse. He thought it might've hurt her back but she just shot him a grin with her eyes nearly closed.

"Well?" he murmured.

Her eyebrows rose in goofy confidence, "Piece of fucking cake."

His heart raced as if it wanted to reach some far off destination before it was too late.

"You're beautiful Ally."

"I youtubed you."

He released a burst of laughter, "What the fuck?"

"Well not you I mean I youtubed your band last night." Her hands gestured more than they usually did while her speech remained clear and intelligible.

"Oh yeah?" there was a blush rising in his cheeks but he was too close to the stars to care.

"Yup." She popped the p.

"And what'd you find?"

"I listened to like 15 songs." She sat up as if suddenly very interested, even folding her legs Indian style in Roxy's seat, "Yeah I think it was around 15 or so and I legitimately loved like 12 of the 15. That one song _"Green"_ OH MY GOD I melted. And " _Rust_ " was sooo sad and " _Rabid Party Animals_ " was so creative and- OH MY GOD that one ballad " _Crawling_ " I listened to like 7 times in a row," she rolled her eyes to the roof, "BEW-TEE-FULL!"

He flipped through the oh so familiar tracks in his mind and smirked, "I'll let Dez know he has your approval."

"No no no nononono." Ally rambled, "It wasn't just the words it was the singing." she sighed in content, " _Your_ singing Austin. I mean you rocked out on " _Keeping Her Too Long_ " but then on " _Unfashionable_ " you _CROONED_." Another sigh as she brushed a few dark brown tendrils from her face, "You fucking crooned like it was 1957 and it was perfect."

He chuckled, blushing a shade of magenta he never had before, "Holy shit you're such a fucking fangirl."

"I won't deny that." She replied matter-of-factly. And then, before he could respond, her eyes shot wide open with a gasp, "We should play together right now! Come on!"

She swung the Honda's door open without waiting for an answer. He grabbed the weed, bowl, and magazine, with its fine white dust coating Rihanna's lustful gaze, and hurriedly stuffed them all into the glove compartment as the car door slammed. Austin followed after her because, hell, he probably always would in some way.

The night was still. The available light was an odd but very suburban mix of streetlights and full moon. Ally led him up the gently sloping driveway, past the red Bug and the silver Accord.

"Okay," she whispered with her fingers resting on the golden door knob, "you have to be as quiet as possible my mom and dad are asle-"

"Penny! Les-!"

Her tiny hand clamped over his mouth as he began laughing.

"Are you insane!?" she hissed.

Austin licked her palm.

"Eeeewwww!" she whisper-squealed, "That was so unsanitary."

"Relax Dawson." He rolled his eyes as she wiped her hand on his sleeve.

"Shush."

They crept through the house in silence. He watched the invading outdoor light come slanting in through the blinds and crooked curtains to illuminate her ponytail as it swung. He followed her hair's chestnut sheen with 4 fingertips pressed lightly to the small of her back so he wouldn't run into anything.

The attic, with its cute little round window, was hers. She flipped the light switch and he blinked twice to adjust. The walls were yellow like the center of a daisy or the rind of a lemon. There were musical instruments everywhere, some leaning against the sunny paint, others locked in cases of various sizes, and more still resting on the dresser or the nightstand or the bed. Those were really the only 2 things his mind cared to, or was able to, register at the moment. Yellow and music.

"This is going to be so much fun!" she grinned as she immediately rushed over to a keyboard sitting on its stand.

Austin chuckled as he turned Ally's little wooden desk chair to face the brunette then plopped himself in it. "So what're we playing fangirl?"

"Hmmm…oh let's do "Crawling" I really love that one."

He stretched his arms up over his head, nodding in approval, "Good choice. Good fucking choice. Hand me that guitar right there."

"Ok- oh hold on I have to pee."

Austin simply shook his head in amusement as she practically flew to the little bathroom behind him and shut the door. He slid a little lower in the chair. He blinked slowly. He hadn't told Ally how goddamn incredible the coke makes a human feel. She'd asked him, with the perfume insert tube practically shaking in her hand, _"what does it feel like?"_. And all he'd done was describe the static and soundwaves, the effects that exploded against the inside of your skull before you could even finish the line. They were the least pleasant aspects of the entire process by far and they were the only ones he mentioned. But she'd welcomed the blow anyway. She didn't give a shit what kind of natural disasters ravaged her mind because he'd told her earlier on the swingset that it also kept nightmares away. That was really all she cared about.

Suddenly there was a muted flush, the opening of a door, purposeful footsteps, and his hat being ripped off of his head from behind, landing somewhere out of his line of vision with a flop. Austin didn't even budge. Well, not until an incredibly comforting sensation, just as sudden but far more attention-grabbing, surprised him. He sat up straight.

For once it wasn't Austin running his hands through his hair. This time there were delicate fingers combing through the blond locks, fingers that could play _every_ musical instrument on Earth and were currently sporting mint green nail polish.

"Um Ally?" he murmured, leaning back into her touch.

"Yeah?" she answered.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything but…" he paused as pleasurable shivers rushed down his spine, "shit…um what are you doing?"

"I have been wanting to touch your hair since I saw you at the wake." She spoke in a voice that probably wasn't supposed to be sexy but fuuuuuck it really was. "Outside in the sunshine, you were smoking and your hair looked almost white." Her hands ran across his scalp in all directions, mussing his hair into complete disarray, "It's even softer than I thought."

Austin closed his eyes as Ally stepped around to the front of him and stood between his legs.

" _You're_ even softer than I thought." He said.

She laughed, loud and uninhibited, "That doesn't make sense."

He smirked, opening his eyes only halfway and studying the smooth skin of her neck. Even sitting down he was only a few inches shorter than her. But he hadn't had her this close since the rain and the kiss, since the church swings and her last name. The scent of her shampoo and body wash tossed coconuts and vanilla beans into his airway. Austin's hands found her hips, gripping them and pulling her closer. She was far too absorbed in the bright blondeness of his hair to object. His eyelids dropped again as he rubbed the smooth fabric of her leggings.

"Austin?"

"That's me."

"Am I still high?"

His fingers massaged the firm flesh of her hips, "How do you feel?"

"I don't know." Ally's hands continued to roam the golden forest on Austin's head. Her eyes surveyed the bedroom around them as if seeing it for the very first time, "I feel like I….just don't care….about anything. I'm…careless." Here she laughed loudly again, "I mean carefree!"

"Shhhh Ally you're too loud."

"For the first time in weeks there's nothing to worry about. And I feel like I have all this energy like- Oh my God we should go running. Well no nevermind I don't want to do that but I could definitely run a marathon like right now. And I think I'm getting a fever. And I feel like I just want to touch stuff! Is that weird?"

"Weird? No. Fuck no." Austin completely rejected that idea because if he could have her massage his scalp for the rest of their lives he would.

"It's like my sense of touch is superhuman or something. Like your hair feels UH-mazing."

Austin's hands crept upwards, slowly burrowing underneath her sweater and sliding around her bare waist. Jesus Christ the warmth of her body was like Florida summer under a cloudless sky. He caressed the small of her back, he smoothed over her bellybutton, savoring the heat and the softness.

"Mmmm that feels good Austin." Ally mumbled, her face practically buried in his hair.

His inhibitions were gone. There were all the active components of cocaine mingling in his bloodstream and Austin was finding it impossible to care about or even remember Ally's intimacy issues. As a young, popular, and charismatic musician, he was used to having pretty girls turn to putty in his hands. But this wasn't just another groupie throwing herself at him. This was a beautiful woman that he'd really just met and was already inexplicably captivated by. _Ally Dawson_ , a genuine musician who didn't even drink because it was technically illegal, a shy brunette who he doubted ever threw herself at anybody was standing between his legs and in his palms and sighing in pleasure. He opened his eyes and the view was all porcelain skin and white fabric with grey polka dots. He inhaled her delicious scent and let his hands continue their explorations.

"That feels good." She murmured again, gently clutching two fistfuls of his blonde locks, "Keep touching me."

She didn't need to tell him twice. Austin angled his head upwards and began pressing big, bold kisses along her neck, tasting her with the tip of his tongue then capturing her skin between his lips. His hands rushed down to her thighs, pulling to hike her legs up until she quickly caught on and managed to straddle him despite her lightheadedness. She was in his lap, the closest they'd ever been, and letting him kiss along the tendons anchoring her head to her shoulder. Austin's left hand traveled up to the middle of her back, crushing her bra strap under his palm. Ally began to giggle for no reason. He ignored it, devouring her heated skin with purpose. And when his lips seized the magic button on her neck, Ally's laughter rolled abruptly into a breathy moan. He teased her there, nipping and licking and tying her nerves into knots like cherry stems. The brunette herself was unraveling and how could she not? There were narcotics kneading her brain like raw dough and a sexy, tattooed guitarist prowling her body like a ravenous lion. And she wanted neither of them to stop. Austin kissed his way up the tender skin of her throat, climbing her chin very slowly and pausing at her lips. She released one last nonsensical laugh before growing terribly serious and leaning into him.

It was nothing like their first kiss. Earlier they'd been tentative, their lips barely pressing before she'd shoved him away in pure terror. Now with white powder lining their nostrils, Austin and Ally both surrendered completely. He'd stifled his desires ever since she blushed over and over in the alley, and now he was done being gently with her. Austin squeezed her thigh firmly and traced the metal and elastic at the back of her bra as they kissed. He pressed his fingertips into her fleshy thigh before running his hand up and around to cup her ass, to pull her insanely close. And, fuck, they met with white hot fire and goosebumps through thin spandex leggings and cotton sweats. The friction sent bolts of lightning all through him. Inescapable tension clenched his hands in the flesh of her upper back and the meat of her butt cheek. His heart was racing uncontrollably, keeping up with hers one second yet somehow lagging behind the next. Ally's pulse was that of a hummingbird's, fluttering at an inhuman speed as he ground her into him again. His dick hardened steadily, pressing against her clit with a maddening sensitivity. Groans, low and feminine, filled her throat as they kissed. Her small fists tugged hard on his hair until Austin was practically primal with pain and pleasure because those two had gone hand in hand since the beginning of time. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and bit gently as he rode out the prickling along his insides. Then, just as quickly, he was running his tongue over his own bite marks and kissing her again with impossible passion. Austin was starving to death and Ally…she was everything he hungered for.

"Shit." He rasped, unable to breathe as he clutched her ass with both hands and brought her into him again.

"Geez it's like a million degrees in here isn't it?" she gasped, still massaging his scalp and nearly drowning in lust and dopamine, "I wonder if our AC's broken."

Austin didn't respond as he was far too busy devouring her neck and jawbone by the mouthful. His hands climbed her spine, exploring every curve and bump with a strange drug-induced curiosity.

"Ugh I've got to get this thing off." Ally pulled away from his expert lips and released her semi-permanent hold on his hair. His eyes worshipped her, especially the dark magenta of her kiss-swollen lips, as she began removing her scarf. She sighed in relief as the polka-dotted fabric unwound. "That's so much better already."

Austin licked his lips in thirsty anticipation while she tossed the scarf aside because the sweater had to be next right? He was even about to help push the teal fabric upwards but stopped when something caught his eye.

"What the fuck is that?" he mumbled in both confusion and disbelief.

Ally followed his gaze, "Oh that?" she pointed to the medium sized mark purpling and yellowing in the hollow just above her collarbone.

"Yeah."

"It's a bruise." She replied biting her lip with a smile as her hands found his disaster of a hairdo again.

"Yeah no shit Dawson." Austin was slightly sobered by the sight of it but not much. He pulled the neck of her sweater down for a better look. It was far too large to be a hickey. He thought back through the past couple of days with her scarves and fully buttoned collared shirt and his heart sank just a little. She'd been hiding it all this time. Ally fell into a rhythm of gently smoothing his hair down before bringing her fingers to rake through it from back to front, essentially creating chaos of the brief neatness.

"Where'd you get it?" He asked, frowning at the various colors in that patch of skin. He'd had plenty of bruises before, from bar fights and drunken shenanigans, and he knew that in about 2 weeks they were either pale yellow or totally gone. But Ally's had a purple-black center that faded into soft maroon and ended with sickly yellow edges. It looked deep and Austin couldn't imagine how long it'd been there marring her skin.

"At school." Suddenly she got off of him, abandoning both his lap and his hair. "So are we going to play a song together or what?"

The coked up brunette shot him a brilliant grin before reaching for the first instrument she encountered.

"What the hell do you mean you got it at school?" He stood up, adjusting his boner as it gradually softened.

Ally hugged a little ukulele over her boobs and began strumming "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" clumsily with her bandaged hand. She smiled, twirling in slow circles as the song tripped over itself. Austin snatched the instrument from her.

"What the HELL do you mean you got it at school!?" his voice was firm and aggravated because the coke really did keep him calm…except when it didn't.

"Give that back!"

"Not until you tell me what happened to you."

"Fuck you!" Ally fixed him with a challenging glare. "Why should I?"

"I'm not in the mood for this bullshit Ally!" he seethed, "Now tell me."

"Give me back the ukulele Austin!" she hissed at him with tears building in her eyes.

He really didn't want to. He was _not_ a patient person. But even with drugs stoking the fires of his temper, Austin could still feel that faint ache he always got when a female began to cry. Reluctantly, he held the tiny guitar out to her. She snatched it with a fierceness he knew was living in her all along.

"You're an asshole you know that!?" Ally snarled.

" _I'm_ an asshole!?"

"Yes! You're an asshole!" she shouted as she repositioned the uke.

"You won't answer my fucking question! ANY of my fucking questions and _I'm_ the asshole?! That's bullshit!"

Ally began to strum and spin in slow circles again, a serene smile on her face as if he hadn't said a thing.

"My ex used to yell at me too," she said softly, "His name was Trent."

He was quiet, a rare occurrence when nursing a cocaine-influenced rage.

"He used to say," Ally smoothly transitioned from _"_ Somewhere Over the Rainbow _"_ to "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", "He would say ' _Who the hell was that guy?!_ ' and ' _Because I fucking said so!_ ' and ' _You're not going ANYWHERE!_ '. The last one was his favorite. Towards the end it didn't matter where I wanted to go. Movies, lunch with my friends, library, as far away from him as humanly possible…." She closed her eyes and grinned, "You're not going _anywhere_!"

Austin remained silent but plopped back down in her desk chair.

Now her hands were plucking a weird acoustic version of the "Friends" theme song.

"He wasn't always like that. I met him my first year at MUNY and he was so sweet and confident and cooler than I could ever be or had ever been. I was actually a little surprised that he was interested. He went to a community college like 15 minutes off campus. I met him in a coffee shop...God that sounds so fucking cliché. Anyway, our relationship didn't just blossom over the next 9 months, it ignited or…." Her hands stopped and she stopped turning as her songwriter's brain searched to find the right words, "…it exploded, it soared, it climbed to the mountaintops with aching limbs then looked out over the planet in breathless triumph. He didn't just treat me like sweet little innocent Ally. He called me out on my bullshit and pushed me to be better and kissed me with this beautiful kind of tenderness. He was romantic and funny and frustrating and annoying and caring." She started to play an Ed Sheeran song with a happy smile on her face, "I mean we argued and stuff just like normal couples but he was mine and I was so happy. But then…" her face grew comically serious, "…Elliot came to visit." Her fingers plucked out a dramatic 'dun dun DUUUUN!'.

Austin chuckled as she grinned widely.

"Elliot and I dated in high school. He was my first….everything." now an Elvis tune filled the room, "He flew in from California for his cousin's wedding and came by a couple of days afterward to see me. We met for brunch and caught up and laughed. Then, somewhere between my crepes and his chicken and waffles, the atmosphere shifted you know. He was looking at me the way he used to, when I was everything he'd ever wanted." She stared off into the distance, "He told me that he still thought about us sometimes and that he'd even written a few poems about me while he was away at school. Elliot did treat me like sweet innocent Ally and I didn't realize that I kind of missed it until it was too late. I told him not to read me the poem Austin. I swear I did." She was looking at him now.

He started running his hands through his hair, attempting to recreate the feeling from before, "Suuuuure you did."

She laughed, "Fuck you. Anyway, he read me one of them and it was gorgeous and powerful. There's something about words that has always captivated me. And I could feel it then too, right there in that café, pulling at my weaker seams. I awkwardly told him that I should get going if I was going to beat the rain. We paid and stood up but when I started walking to the door he stopped me." Ally swallowed as if reliving that intense moment, then her hands abruptly began to strum "Under The Sea" from The Little Mermaid, "Do you remember this movie? I looooove old Disney movies. Okay so Elliot kissed me. Well no you know what I won't lie to you. We kissed each other. He was my first _everything_ Austin. We went back to his hotel room-"

"Whoa-ho-ho Ally's getting NAUGH-TAY!"

"Shut up!" she held her ukulele up like she was going to hit him with it. Austin simply doubled over in laughter.

"I was 18 and stupid and he was my first EVERYTHING you asshole!" Ally could barely contain her own giggles, "We had sex okay. Happy?"

"I bet Elliot was."

That time she really did hit him. Then, as he rubbed his shoulder and tried to stop chuckling, she repositioned the uke and started to just strum random melodies.

"So afterwards I felt super guilty of course so I go and confess to Trent-"

"YOU CONFESS TO TRENT?" Austin could barely believe his ears, "Ally who cheats and then fucking confesses right after?"

"Trent was _enraged_. He's always had this thing about being humiliated. I mean no one likes to be embarrassed but it was almost like he never learned how to handle it properly. Like if something even slightly humiliating ever happened to him he would be in the worst mood about it for hours and hours. And what was more embarrassing than having his girlfriend, the one he'd bragged about to all of his friends, cheat on him with her high school sweetheart? He didn't dump me but we did take a break which was basically just as horrible in my eyes. I was miserable the entire time but I knew I deserved it. I deserved to be unhappy because I'd hurt the guy I cared about most. So when he finally took me back like a month later I grinned the entire day and gave myself a migraine that lasted all night. We were back together, Trent and Ally, Trally, like we were supposed to be." She stopped playing abruptly and just knocked on the ukulele's wooden body, creating a simple and slow beat, "The only thing was he started acting differently. He was much more possessive and controlling because I'd broken his heart and I'd shattered his trust and I'd completely obliterated his pride. That's when the yelling and the questions started. " _Who the hell was that guy!?" Because I fucking said so!?" "You're not going ANYWHERE!"."_

Here she paused for a second to readjust the ukulele and flex her bandaged hand, "Oh!" her eyes widened and so did her smile, "See if you can name this song!"

Austin listened as she played a few notes, "Is it "Hey Jude" by the Beatles?"

"Correct! Okay how about this one."

He laughed inexplicably but kept his ears honed in on her mystery song, "Seriously Dawson? That was "The Itsy Bitsy Spider"."

"Can you touch me again?" she suddenly asked, the uke gripped in her hand and hanging by her side, "Can I stand here?"

Ally moved in between his legs like they'd done before. His hands found her hips immediately as if the coke wasn't dulling his reflexes at all. His fingertips were a little numb and a lot cold but they caressed the fabric of her leggings with all the care in the world. Austin closed his eyes for a moment as his heart continued to beat faster and faster.

"That feels good." She clumsily repositioned the uke with a satisfied sigh, "Trent was playing some video game one day but I wanted him to pay attention to me so I kept climbing all over him and walking in front of the tv and trying to be too fucking cute for him to resist. And somewhere in the middle of telling me to stop for the millionth time he grew really serious. But I didn't notice. I should have noticed. But I didn't. I put my feet on his lap and he said ' _Ally quit before I slap you_ ' and I laughed and said ' _You're not going to slap me because you loooove me too much_ '. He didn't answer. So I leaned in and nibbled on his ear. He paused the game, turned, and slapped me so hard my ears rang." She started to play the old school Super Mario theme, "That was the first time he hit me. I was so shocked I couldn't even cry properly. I couldn't cry from my eyes."

"That doesn't make sense." he leaned his forehead into the crook of her neck.

"It does because I cried from my pen. I always write songs to make me feel better but that day I wrote something that was barely a song at all. It was bitter and erratic. I cried on that page…" she started strumming randomly, "…in black ink. You know what he did?"

"What?"

"He just went back to playing his game while I sat there holding my face. I felt like such a fucking idiot." She began to laugh at herself and Austin couldn't help but join in, both of them finding humor in a truly humorless situation.

"So that was the 1st time he hit me. The 4th time he hit me we were in a restaurant and I hadn't smiled, hadn't _really_ smiled, in weeks. I said something he didn't like and he kicked me under the table, right in my shin. And I swear it woke something up inside of me because suddenly my glass was empty and tilted forward in my hand and there was lemonade all over his face and I had to blink like 4 times before it all registered in my brain. He grew silent," she began to whisper, "completely quiet. And his eyes kept darting around the room like he hoped no one had seen. But everyone had seen. " _It's over!"_ That's what I shouted at him. I stormed out of that restaurant and he didn't even chase after me. He didn't even text me or call me. I found a box of my stuff outside of my apartment door 2 weeks later. And at first I was pissed that he hadn't even fought for me, hadn't even tried to apologize. But then I found it strange that he hadn't tried to communicate like AT ALL. It wasn't like him to let me have the last word, especially when he was humiliated and ESPECIALLY when he was humiliated by _me._ Then came the paranoia. I made up my mind that Trent was going to get his revenge somehow, that I was going to run into him sooner or later and he'd hurt me just like he used to. I couldn't run errands without constantly checking my surroundings and making sure my pepper spray was easily accessible. It was awful and it went on for months. I imploded. I collapsed in on myself. I stopped going to parties and out to eat with my friends. And you know what? It wasn't even just that I was afraid. I felt like I deserved to be unhappy again. It was MY fault that Trent had become this violent, jealous, dangerous guy. It was my selfishness and my disloyalty that turned a sweet, fun, romantic man into a monster. Why should I go out and have fun when I'd destroyed everything good about this guy's character? This guy that I claimed to have been in love with? I didn't deserve happiness or love from anyone. I turned down every guy that asked me out after that because I deserved nights alone, rotting in front of the tv, not fancy dates or a new boyfriend. God, I thought I'd feel free getting away from Trent but it just wounded me, and the guilt made it fester so it would never heal."

He clenched and unclenched his hands, kneading the flesh of her thighs. He buried his face in her neck and listened to her play some slow jam he couldn't identify.

"But nothing happened. There was no revenge. It had been 4 months since I threw the lemonade in his face and I hadn't even _seen_ Trent since then. I had one of my friends stalk him on Instagram and Facebook and I found out he'd transferred to some college back in New Jersey. That's where he's from." Her fingers plucked out a happier tune, "It was like I could breathe again. My social life was slowly but surely rejuvenated you know. I started to go out more with my friends, I went on a couple of dates, and the paranoia melted away. It was normalcy, sweet sweet normalcy and I cherished it. Things were good. But then, one Saturday afternoon while I was working at the bookstore I got a bad feeling." She played around with the uke's lower notes, "I mean my job wasn't especially stressful that day and I'd just gotten a cute text from the guy I was dating but, for some reason I felt the old paranoia creep up on me right there behind the register. It was like there was a storm brewing, big and negative, and I could feel the change in pressure before the rain clouds were even visible. I tried to ignore it. Dallas, the guy I was dating, and I had already been on 2 dates and he'd just invited me over to his place for a 3rd. The text was something like ' _Dinner at my place tonight? Be my guest, be my guest, put my service to the test?'_ And I thought it was so cute because he'd teased me about my love for old Disney movies back on our 2nd date."

"He sounds lame as fuck." Austin scoffed.

Ally ignored him, "He wanted me to walk over to his apartment after my shift was done. I was already a little nervous about walking across campus in the dark and alone and the bad feeling made it ten times worse. But I thought Dallas had a lot of promise and I really didn't want to ruin things and destroy the normalcy I'd finally gotten back. I told myself I was being ridiculous. I worked straight through my break to keep mind busy and by the time I got off I was starving. Hold on I have to pee again."

She broke from his grasp and rushed to the restroom. Austin sat there letting her story sink into him and growing angry. Why the fuck would that Trent asshole take Ally back if he was just going to abuse her? Sure what she'd done was shitty. It really surprised him actually that someone with such a high sweet to spice ratio could cheat on her boyfriend but that didn't give him the right to hit her. Austin's fists clenched in his lap.

When Ally returned, she didn't reoccupy the space between his legs but instead stood in the center of the room where she'd been twirling before. Austin immediately felt the iciness in his fingertips creep into the rest of him. She repositioned the uke and started to play softly.

"So I got off work and started walking to Dallas' apartment. The bad feeling wasn't just a cloud anymore, it was like a cinderblock in the pit of my stomach. And I was trying so hard to ignore it because not only was I starving but I really didn't want to ruin things with Dallas. In my more miserable months I'd gotten this reputation for being an ice queen who didn't date or put out. Dallas seemed like the first really nice guy to come along and not want to jump in my pants right away so I really wanted to make this a great 3rd date. But the way the campus is set up there's kind of a dead man's zone between the buildings where classes are held and the apartments. It's a huge chunk of square footage where all the administrative buildings are and they all close around 5 or 6. So by the time 9:30 rolled around and found me walking there, they'd all been long abandoned. I felt like a lost soul in limbo. I felt like I was stranded in the middle of a dark, shark-infested sea, armed with nothing but my bare hands. I'd forgotten my pepper spray back in my apartment. I swear it was the darkest night I ever experienced. My heart pounded. Do you remember how you told me about your velumiphobia?"

"Yeah."

"That's exactly how I felt walking that night and wondering just what was lurking around corners and behind dumpsters. I felt like my heart was hitting the front of my ribs and at any second the sheer force of the collision would split it open. Do you know what happened?" Ally's brown eyes met his.

Austin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Tell me."

Her face broke into a grin, "Nothing. Nothing happened at all. I jumped at every noise, at every single fucking shadow and nothing happened. I made it to Dallas' place without incident. I was so relieved when I got there that I immediately asked him if I could use the restroom. I locked myself in there and cried. I cried out of relief and I cried because my chest was sore from the violent beating of my heart and I cried because there I was letting the paranoia control me again. I knew I couldn't stay in the bathroom too long without Dallas thinking something embarrassing so I tried to pull myself together. I was drying my eyes when I heard the tv turn on through the door. And I smiled because he'd put on Beauty and the Beast and turned it up full blast."

Ally grinned and Austin scoffed again.

"Fucking lame."

"Now I really REALLY don't want to ruin the date but there's still this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach because I know I'll have to walk back across campus to get to my own apartment after dinner. So I decide I'll just ask Dallas for a ride home no matter how clingy or needy it might seem. With that decision made I take a deep breath and come out of the bathroom. He's standing there and asks me if I'm okay. I tell him yea and hope that my eyes aren't too red-"

"He's standing there when you come out of the bathroom?" Austin raised an eyebrow jealously, "Sounds like a fucking creeper."

"He gestures for me to head into the living room so I start walking in that direction and he follows behind me. The tv's so loud that I barely hear him when he says ' _Oh yeah one more thing'_. I turn around and he's unbuckling his pants…"

Austin's brain toppled over under the blunt force of sudden realization. But on the outside he simply sat up perfectly straight. Ally started to play "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" again, closing her eyes and strumming with her bandaged hand.

"I asked him what he was doing and he just said _"Come on Ally-cat"_ in a voice I hadn't heard him use before. It was a voice that I imagine he used to seduce other girls but in that moment it was more a gravelly growl that only someone villainous could pull off. He'd started calling me Ally-cat after our second date when I told him that The Aristocats is my favorite Disney movie of all time. But when he said just then, it wasn't cute or endearing anymore. Not at all. He took his pants off completely then his shirt and I just stood there." She laughed hard and loud, "I just _stood_ there can you believe that?" She kept laughing as if she found it genuinely hilarious. Austin felt his stomach twist into a billion pretzels at the ill-fitting sound. "Oh God Austin can you imagine. He's walking towards me, this guy I've only been on 2 dates with, half-naked and with a look in his eye that every girl knows. Every girl in the world knows that look because we're trained from before we even hit puberty to recognize when a man means to take something from you. And I see that look and I understand that look and I freeze. I _FREEZE!"_ another sick, distorted laugh, "And I don't unfreeze until he grabs my wrists. Like we're playing fucking freeze tag or something. Do you remember that game? I looooved it when I was little. It was so much fun. We should play later! Anyway, he grabs me and I'm thrashing around and I start screaming but I doubt anyone can hear me. There's a party a couple of floors down in the student lobby and his tv's volume is so high that Belle is singing over me without any effort. She was my favorite Disney princess."

Ally began to turn in slow circles again, letting her hands play _"Beauty and the Beast"_ in dulcet tones. Austin wasn't nearly as calm but the fat lines he'd done earlier were keeping him from having a complete meltdown. Now the blonde ran his hands through his hair, already not wanting to accept what was next. But the girl twirling before him continued, and in a voice so normal and light that it curdled his blood.

"You know the funny thing about rape?" She asked him as if that was a legitimate question, as if he could possibly answer such a thing.

"Holy fucking shit." he whispered to himself. Then, pinching the bridge of his nose, he asked something he really didn't want to know. "What?"

"When you see it in movies or tv you tell yourself that it would never happen to you. That you'd never accept a drink from some stranger in a club or walk down a dark alley alone at midnight or whatever. Or you tell yourself that even if you do find yourself cornered and pressed underneath some sleazy guy that you'd be able to get out of there. That, even if he has 60 or 70 pounds on you, you'll summon some kind of adrenaline-induced, superhuman strength and push him off without breaking one manicured nail. But when it's actually _happening_ …It doesn't matter how much strength you're summoning or you think you're summoning because he has his own adrenaline rush. You're desperate to get away but he's equally as desperate to keep you there. And you barely have time to ask yourself if it's really happening because he has you pinned down on the couch and you're too busy telling your mouth to scream and your legs to kick even though he's putting all of his weight on top of you and you're also afraid you'll die of lack of oxygen if you continue screaming because you're lungs are already spent and your throat is already raw because fear screams are a lot rougher than any other kind of scream. They're like sandpaper you can't control, rushing through your windpipe and scraping layers of skin from everything." Ally was smiling, _SMILING_ , as she rambled in run on sentences, "And you try to squeeze your thighs together but before long he has a knee in between them and once he gets a knee in between then it's all over because then he has two knees in between then his whole waist is squashed in that precious V. And if you decide to wear a sundress that day then it's even easier for him. He's mostly frowning because he's concentrating on holding you down and controlling your useless but flailing attempts to escape. But he still smiles, if only for a second, when he remembers you're wearing a dress and all he has to do is lift it up. And if you're wearing a thong he's ecstatic because those rip like paper if you put a little effort into it." She giggled like she'd told a joke, "And then, just before he enters you, he yells " _Shut the fuck up!"_ because he liked your screaming in the beginning because that meant he was in control, but after a while it becomes a turn off and he'll be damned if he goes through all this work pinning you into submission and doesn't get to enjoy the fucking. And you know what else is funny?"

This time she doesn't wait for an answer but simply opens her eyes and grins at him.

"When he yells for you to shut up you do it. You actually stop screaming immediately because it frightens you when he yells. Yelling means he's angry and who knows what else he'll do to you if you don't listen right? So he's pressing his forearm across your collarbones so hard you can actually _feel_ bruises forming and his other hand is clutching both of your wrists. And when he rams his dick up into your dry pussy it's like a pain that rips you in half, that travels up and tears through your brain too, not just your vagina. You cry out because you can't help it but it's not a scream, now you're just crying that big ugly gasping kind of cry where the veins bulge at your temples and you're not sure you'll ever stop crying after this. God it hurts so bad. But at some point you go numb, but not numb in the sense that you don't feel the pain anymore. No you feel every little bit of it the entire time and for a long looong time after. But you try to imagine that it's all a dream, that you're elsewhere, that it's all over and your brain will hopefully just repress it forever. And now you're finding the cruel irony because there's really no other kind of irony. You've had the feeling something bad was going to happen ever since you got that cute fucking text message from him earlier and all this time you thought it was because your abusive ex was lurking in the shadows. But no, you knew somewhere deep in your subconscious that you shouldn't go to this guy's apartment, this guy that you just met. Your first date was at a movie theater and your second date was a concert and you suddenly realize that you haven't had the opportunity to really sit down and talk to him or get to know him that well. He's a stranger and you agreed to be alone with him in his apartment because he made a goddamned Beauty and the Beast reference. Even after you made it through the darker part of campus you still had that bad feeling because you knew, you _KNEW_ that something wasn't right but you weren't smart enough or fast enough to realize what it was."

She stopped playing. It was silent between her yellow bedroom walls.

"Your eyes are squeezed shut because you actually ARE smart enough to know that if you see his cum face it'll be burned into your memory for eternity. He finishes inside of you and somehow you already know you have every STD known to man and you're also now pregnant because isn't that how the world works?" she laughed again, "And before he rolls off of you he starts to speak but you keep your eyes closed and try to keep your body from trembling but you can't. He's talking in his normal voice now, the one that asked you if you were okay when you came out of the bathroom a lifetime ago. He says " _That wasn't so bad huh Ally-cat? Aren't you glad you came over?"._ And even though you weren't smart enough to know he was a bad guy before, you are smart enough to hear what he's _really_ saying. You're smart enough to know that you did come to his apartment of your own free will and that it'll be your word against his. You're smart enough to remember that the whole school knows you cheated on Trent and that, despite your months of abstinence, they all think you're just a slut deep down. So when he rolls off of you and you get up as fast as you can and snatch your purse off of the table and rush out of there with barely any energy left and an indescribable pain shooting up through your lower abdomen, you don't even think about telling anyone. Telling would make it real and how can you truly forget something you've spoken into concrete existence? So you run all the way back across campus without any underwear or shoes because your sandals came off in the struggle. The shadows aren't scary anymore because you've already experienced true scary. You shower for 2 hours, long enough for the water to get cold and then hot all over again. You cover the bruises with a crazy amount of concealer and a scarf and you pretend everything's fine when you can actually feel yourself falling apart. You ignore Dallas' texts and phone calls and when your friends ask about him you just tell them the truth, he only wanted sex. They roll their eyes and joke about how guys are always horny and you want to scream so badly that you excuse yourself to the bathroom in the back of the café and go in the stall and hold your breath until you pass out for 6 or 7 minutes. Over time all the bruises fade except for this one," she pointed to the dark purple peeking out from under her sweater, "And you endure the nightmares by not sleeping for more than 4 hours a night. You suffer but you tell yourself this kind of suffering is fine because telling would be whole different kind of suffering and you know you're not strong enough to handle it. You endure for almost a month and half until you can't stand being there anymore because sometimes you do catch a glimpse of him on your way to class and he winks." She closed her eyes and sighed, "He winks every. single. time. he sees you. And it's like he's raping you all over again. And you're letting him. So you drop out of school and move back home and you tell everyone it's because you just don't think MUNY is for you anymore even though it totally is. Your friends eventually stop calling because you've been ignoring them all ever since you left. Your parents walk around on eggshells because they know there's something you're not telling them but you're almost 21 years old and they can't make you even though you really REALLY want them to. You know what else is funny?" she smirked, ready to tell another unfunny joke.

"What Ally?" he rasped, his jaw clenching.

"I still don't get any sleep. I moved back here a month ago. He's literally on the opposite side of the nation. Him and Trent actually, are both hundreds of miles away and I still sleep like 3 hours every night because when the moon rises I know that's when one of them, or both of them, will come for me somehow and the only warning I'll have will be the hairs rising on my arms and legs before a hand closes over my mouth and they take what little I have left. So now here I am, a 20 year old college dropout living with my parents and writing depressing songs waiting for my ex's to come and hurt me again. Sometimes I _want_ them to come and get it over with already just so I can stop being so afraid. Isn't that sick?" she grinned at him like she took pleasure in his obvious discomfort. And then her eyes grew wide with excitement, "Oh I have to tell you the best part!"

"Ally I don't want-"

"So you know how you saw me crying at the stop sign on Thursday?"

Austin sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Uh yeah I guess why?"

"Well I went to the boardwalk that day because my mom wanted me to pick up something she'd ordered at this little vintage clothing store she likes to go to. I think she was really just sick of me sitting in the house all day. Anyway, I get there and the whole pier and beach is packed with spring breakers. I'm walking to the store and I literally run into him." She pauses with her eyebrows high like 'isn't that amazing' then clarifies when his expression doesn't change, "Dallas. I run into Dallas. He's there with a bunch of other people from MUNY for spring break and when I accidentally bump into him as they're coming out of a diner I freeze. Just like before."

Finally her smile fell away. The humor was leaving her like a spirit after death, floating off into nothingness. Austin watched her carefully even as his heart continued to rush and the drugs infiltrated his tissues. He felt as though he couldn't be touched by her misery because the white horse was carrying him away at full gallop, leaving nothing but dust in its wake. But he also felt that sore spot of his, the one he had to have been born with because even as a toddler he'd felt compelled to comfort his crying mother, he felt it throb like it always did when the fairer sex was in distress. And Ally, being the fairest of all, made the entire base of his brain burn with pity and the need to help alleviate her pain. Her eyes glistened with tears and he was immediately on his feet. He moved towards her but she took a hesitant step back.

"No stop." She blinked, "Let me finish this. I froze again and he just grinned and said ' _Oh hey Ally-cat long time no see'_ and win-….he fucking winked at me. I ran all the way back to my car like a coward." She started to laugh again despite the tears in her eyes, "I bet he got a good laugh out of that, watching me run away just like I did in his apartment that night. I trusted a guy just because he was nice to me, like assholes can't also be chivalrous. And here I am doing it again." She pointed the uke at him, giggling as it poked his chest, "I don't know you. You're a stranger and something told me to trust you the second I saw you in that alley. You'd just thrown a wooden pallet against a wall and destroyed it, you were sporting tattoos and a leather jacket and smoking a cigarette and, for some reason, I guess my own poor judgement, I wanted to trust you. And I did. I told you stuff about me that I didn't want to tell you: my name, my birthday…I kissed you and I let you kiss me. And now, I've told you my most intimate secret. You know the greatest pain that I've ever experienced, that I'm STILL experiencing. And I fucking _HATE_ how much it hurts and how good it feels."

Austin just stood there in her bright and sunny bedroom with the ukulele's wooden body still pressing his breastbone. He was unsure what to do, what to say. He let his eyes slide carefully away from hers to survey the room. It was like he was seeing it for the first time. Besides having yellow walls and a ton of instruments, there wasn't much there. There were no posters or pictures, no real signs of it being lived in besides a couple of suitcases overflowing with clothes. Everything else seemed to be sitting in unpacked boxes, as if she'd just moved back yesterday instead of a month ago, as if she knew she didn't belong there, not permanently anyway. He ran his hands through his hair, practically crumbling under the weight of this new mountain of information. And when he faced the brunette again, she was staring at him with half-lidded eyes, smiling sweetly.

"Ally I-"

Suddenly a drop of blood trailed from her right nostril and ran across her top lip. Her pink tongue darted out, swiping at the dark red and drawing it into her mouth. She grinned.

"But this is victory right Austin?" she positioned the uke, plucking a few chords, "Metallic and warm and wonderfully painful?"

And he couldn't help but smile as he recalled their conversation about his umbrella tattoo and watched her twirl in fast, happy circles.

"Yeah madam Ally. That's fucking victory."

 **If you can find it in your heart to forgive me for taking so long to update, please leave me a review.** **J**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay so I can't even really use writer's block as an excuse this time because the first half of this chapter nearly wrote itself but the second half….Jesus fucking Christ yall it has been painful. Not sure if it was the subject matter or what but even now as I'm posting it this shit is still not to my liking. But, honestly, it would've been another month before I got it up to par with the rest of the story so I figured I'd just take what I had and stop making yall wait so long. So I'm sorry, both for how long it took me to update and for this chapter (in my opinion) not really doing the importance of its subject matter justice. Anywho, to** ArtistRenegade21, **there are 2 tattoo ideas in this chapter inspired by your comment from chapter 5 so cheers to you for that. To** the Guest who asked if Ally's health was okay, **her physical health is fine if that's what you were referring to. Her mental health on the other hand is as good as it can be considering what she's been through. To** Rainbow, **first of all thank you so very very much for consistently leaving reviews. And also, no I don't have any personal experience with Ally's terrible situation. Everything I wrote is a combination of my imagination and of my research. But I'm incredibly touched that this story has resonated with you like it has. Also, I'm glad I could bring your thing for Austin's hair to life lol. To everyone else who claims this is one of the best fics they've ever read….yall….I've seriously been sitting here at my laptop for 6 and half minutes trying to think of the words that would adequately express just how crazy, amazingly, indescribably ecstatic that makes me. I often spend just as much time being insecure about my writing as I send actually creating it. And to have a work of fiction and some passionate readers make me doubt myself a little less is so much more than I bargained for. So thank you so so sooooo much. Now those of you who listened to the song 'From Eden' probably already know but this is the second to last chapter folks. Just one more after this. Please keep leaving your comments and letting me know what you think of the chapter, how it made you feel, what you think will/should happen next and blah blah blah. Enjoy!**

 ** _"Innocence died screaming. Honey, ask me…I should know."_**

She continued to spin.

Austin's smiled faded.

"Do you have a picture of this Dallas guy?" he asked her.

She stopped twirling and staggered dizzily to her bed, "God no. But I can show you his Instagram. It's public."

She scrolled and tapped for what felt like forever before handing her cell to him with a loud sniffle. His eyes latched onto the line of red beginning to dry below her nose. But then she was off to the middle of the room again, turning in slower circles this time. He looked at the screen.

The Instagram handle was "a_city_in_texas".

Brown hair, brown eyes, cocky smile. His most recent post was a shirtless, 'look how much fun I'm having at the beach' picture because of course it was. Dallas grinned like a kid in a candy store as some wet bikini babe clung to his back and the sun bounced off of his black Aviators. Austin rolled his eyes hard because OF COURSE the guy was your garden variety douchebag. The blonde glanced at the coked up brunette. She was still turning, though even slower now, with her eyes closed and a small smile and a hand pressed over what he knew was an incredibly rapid heartbeat. And every few seconds she'd sniffle back the blood that threatened to escape.

It was all so fucked up. He was at least sober enough to realize that. But Ally had somehow found joy in reliving her unimaginable pain. She'd been stressed and sleepless for months, paranoid that her past would come hunting for her in the dead of night, yearning to release the burden of her blackest secret. Then, under the influence of Virginia Beach's finest blow, she'd done the second thing and discovered relief in that confession and victory in that mild nosebleed. It was a fucked up victory sure, but it was hers. Austin watched her ponytail swing and listened to her sniff blood back up into her nasal passages. He wanted to share in her freedom, to enjoy the release but how could he when she'd had to endure hell to get there? He'd only known her for 2 days and already he could see that Ally Dawson was exceptional in some inexplicable way. Yet someone, TWO fucking someones actually, had treated her so poorly that she recoiled from even the gentlest touch, that she erected walls of steel and concrete and denied the world her brilliance. He looked back at the iPhone in his hand. Dallas stared up at him with that big shit-eating grin.

"Austin is this normal? The nosebleed?" Ally asked as she stopped twirling and made her way to the bathroom again.

"Huh? Oh uh yeah sometimes the blow or the snorting can irritate the lining of your nostril." He tossed her cell back on the bed.

She emerged with a small wad of toilet paper pressed to her nose. His right eye began to twitch ever so slightly as the coke's more calming effects waned and his energy picked up. He was frustrated. He was growing jittery. And seeing the tissue bloom red beneath her fingertips only agitated him more. How many times had that Trent asshole made her bleed? How many times had that fucking cocksucker piece of shit Dallas made her bleed _on paper_? How many sorrowful lyrics and tragic melodies did she have to scribble to maintain her sanity? A wicked pain gripped his chest because he _knew_. He knew just how long she sat around strumming angrily at the guitar until her hands blistered and stiffened. He knew exactly how many hours she spent rubbing her bleary eyes and praying for sunrise because her dreams had stopped being dreams a long time ago. In the beginning, her guarded ways and lashing out only reminded him of when he was younger. But now he could truly see that she was the _embodiment_ of his miserable youth. Austin realized he _knew_ Ally's tragedy, the physical pain, the emotional agony, the inescapable helplessness, because he'd been there. He'd lived all of it so many years ago. And he realized even further that she was wrong about one thing. It wasn't just that _girls_ were taught to detect a dangerous man. No. At the base of it all, beneath the capacity for emotion and the higher cognitive function, human beings were nothing but animals, with the ability to recognize a predator hardwired into their brains. And by the age of 16, Austin too had seen that _look_ and felt that _feeling_ : the look of someone who intends to take something vital from you and the feeling of unending emptiness once it's gone.

For years, drugs had always helped the 23 year old bury Mike, even before he was dead. But this time was different. Austin's father was gone for the rest of eternity and not even the snow or the trees could obscure that irrefutable fact. It dawned on him then, as brightly as Ally's sunshine yellow walls, that his rage hadn't departed with his father. Subconsciously, he'd expected all the hateful baggage would simply fall away with dear old dad's last breath. But no, Mike Moon had completely vacated the physical Earth and yet…. Austin Moon still carried this decade old anger on his shoulders.

He was harboring resentment for someone who was no longer among the living. And the blonde had no fucking clue what he was supposed to do about it.

"What's up buttercup?"

Her voice ripped him back to the present and Austin realized that his fists were clenched and he'd forgotten to breathe. Ally was grinning at him behind the bloody tissue. She was a ball of energy, a bubbly version of her true self. His was a darker kind of vitality, manifesting itself in quivering fingertips and a light sheen of forehead sweat. They were both experiencing the more lively side of the high. The only difference?

Ally wanted to play freeze tag.

Austin wanted to cave Dallas' skull in with a sledge hammer.

"Let's go to the boardwalk." He said, searching for his hat and spotting it in an empty corner of the room.

"The boardwalk?"

"Yeah."

"But.…what if Dallas is there?"

 _That's the point._

The thought was immediate like a sudden gust of wind rushing through his mind and beyond his control. But Austin just pulled the Mötley Crüe cap on over his unruly mane and kept his true intentions hidden.

"He's not gonna be there." The guitarist replied.

She gingerly removed the tissue from her nose and examined it, "But he _might_ b-"

"Holy fucking hell!" he was suddenly dragging his hands down his face in frustration, "That was THURSDAY Ally! Today's SATURDAY! He won't be there okay!?"

She frowned, more out of concern than anything, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing! Ugh nothing I just need some air alright I can't breathe in here."

Her frown remained, "But what about us playing together?"

"Ally-…" he released an annoyed sigh, "We'll play later."

Austin felt as though he was speaking to a child and struggled to keep his temper in check. There was a rage, hotter and larger than he was familiar with, building within him because his younger self had suffered, Ally had suffered, and neither had been vindicated. It was bullshit, plain and simple.

She rolled her eyes, "Ugh fine. You're lucky you're cute. Let me clean up."

Ignoring his sudden blush, and forgetting that the hat was there, Austin attempted to rake his hand through his hair but only met rough canvas as Ally returned to the bathroom for a 4th time. He sat in the desk chair again, his left leg immediately bouncing in place as he waited. It was entirely possible that Dallas would've returned to the boardwalk. Austin abruptly stood up and began to pace back and forth. He was well aware that the downtown Miami strip was always a hotbed of activity and that spring breakers were drawn in like moths to a goddamn flame. They'd rush to get as wasted as humanly possible and go stumbling in and out of clubs, all properly liquored up and glistening with sweat. But Austin also knew that some of the college kids, not many but some, chose to occupy the boardwalk instead. There were a couple of bars and a club or two there as well. There were bound to be some rowdy spring breakers clinging to the boardwalk past midnight.

"Okay I'm ready." She'd already emerged from the bathroom and stood before him with her little black crossbody purse slung over one shoulder and a smile on her face.

Austin chewed his lip thoughtfully as _he_ led _her_ through the pitch black house this time. He rammed his toes and his shins into countless things in his urgency to get out of there. Ally giggled at every thud and every profane whisper that followed it. By the time he swung the Dawson's navy blue door open and crossed the threshold with her in tow, Austin was thoroughly pissed. He strode around to Roxy's driver side, yanked the door open, and flopped down in the seat. He didn't waste any time popping the glove compartment open and pulling out the Rolling Stone magazine. Ally waited until he'd clicked it back close before climbing into the passenger seat.

"Are you doing another one?" she asked incredulously after watching him turn the little baggy upside down, emptying its last powdery contents over the glossy magazine cover.

"Yeah." Was all he said before clamping his lips shut, closing off one nostril and snorting a crooked line from Rihanna's caramel skin.

And holy fucking fuuuuuck….

He'd never done 3 lines so close to each other. And they were all pretty substantial in size. He craned his head back and stared at the ceiling. There wasn't static this time but lava, thick and scalding hot, gushing up and filling every hole in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut as his brain shuddered under a sudden immense pressure. And then in an explosion of sensations, Austin felt the fireworks Ally had mentioned. And at the same time it was her earthquakes too, and avalanches and tornadoes and there had to be a blizzard because suddenly his flesh went completely cold and the lava solidified all hard and heavy in his skull. Then he was hot and opening his eyes and staring at the brunette across from him. And in that same instant he could feel that it wasn't working. The rage was still there when his mind quieted.

He sniffled again and again, shooting every last potent particle down into his lower respiratory system.

"Austin are you okay?" Ally asked him as he basically looked right through her, "Do you want me to drive?"

"Oh nononono madam Ally." He felt a grin stretch across his face, "I don't know you well enough to let you drive Roxy."

"Roxy? You named your car?"

"Roxanne T. Honda is her full title." He replied, cranking up the car in question and instantly hitting a U-turn.

"What does the T stand for?"

"The."

She laughed, "Roxanne The Honda?!"

Austin was quiet. He wasn't sure what to say because he was higher than his mind was accustomed to. He could feel things… _happening_ to him but not himself _doing_ things. He wasn't gripping the steering wheel, his hands were. He wasn't watching the street signs whizz by, his gigantic pupils were. His heart fluttered so rapidly he felt dizzy.

"Hey Ally?"

"Yeah?" she lifted her head off of the window and regarded him with half lidded eyes.

Austin wanted to say something. He wanted his lips and tongue and voice box to ask the brunette beside him if she really _did_ have every STD in the book and a bun in the oven even though he already knew she hadn't been serious when she said it. He wanted his mouth to speak those words but when it opened all that came out was…

"Look."

…as they stopped at a red light. His right hand's numbed fingers reached up, grasping his bottom lip and pulling it down. Her eyes followed his movements lazily then widened in excited surprise.

"Oh my gosh." She whispered leaning in closer.

It was the middle of the night but, in the red glow of a traffic light, his most recent tattoo was still visible: "Pancakes" scrawled into his spongy flesh in plain black letters. Ally giggled, her gaze darting from his confident brown eyes to his moist inner lip.

"Why in the world do you have pancakes tattooed there?"

He released his lip and pulled off with a grin as the light turned green.

"The night my mom um called and told me my dad died," Austin mumbled, his speech just slightly slowed, "I went out to celebrate with the guys and got so…fucking… _wasted_. And the next morning….well I guess the next afternoon, I woke up with this. Hurt like hell."

"But why pancakes?"

He shrugged, "I fucking love pancakes."

"I love pickles but you don't see me getting one tattooed on my face!"

His eyes rolled sarcastically, "Yeah like madam Ally would ever get a tattoo _anywhere_."

She grew quiet for who knows how long. But by the time Austin had made a left onto 82nd avenue and glanced over, she had her back to him.

He nearly crashed.

The brunette had pulled the neck of her sweater down, completely exposing her left shoulder. Austin took in that swath of porcelain skin with rapid glances. It looked as if someone had drawn a tiny acoustic guitar and a little #2 pencil in black ink just over her shoulder blade. Both stood only about an inch tall beside each other on her milky white skin. It was a good thing they were pulling into the beach parking lot because she had her head turned to the side, her chin pressed to the convex curve of her shoulder and her hooded gaze glued to him and he was finding it impossible to focus on anything else. There was a boldness in those brown irises, something he hadn't seen before. Roxy came to a careful and crooked stop. Austin's foot remained on the brake as he stared at the pretty songwriter. There was a bragging smile on her lips and a look in her eye that innocently asked 'you were saying?'. The tattoo was delicate and simple and so unexpected that Austin found himself clapping a hand over his heart because it was already racing and the sight of those solid black lines staining her alabaster flesh sent it into clumsy gymnastics. It was just a tiny little tattoo, a pencil and a guitar, but the blonde was far too high to take this new discovery lightly.

"Are you shitting me?" he grinned as his hands put Roxanne in park.

" _Madam Ally would never get a tattoo ANYWHERE_." She mocked him in a nasally voice. Then she stuck her tongue out at him. And, before he could finish laughing, Ally's shoulder was covered and she was climbing out of the car. He killed the engine and followed.

"When did you get that?" Austin asked.

She came around to his side as he closed Roxy's door.

"My 19th birthday."

The brunette stood before him, smiling cutely. But his grin faded, just as it had back in her room. She'd forgotten her scarf and that bruise peeked out, all purple and maroon, from under her sweatshirt.

"Come on." Austin took her hand as gently as he could.

The boardwalk was about as crowded as he'd expected, not completely empty but nowhere near packed. He pulled her through the scant groups of people. The boardwalk was a long strip of activity situated across Miami's long coastline. Entering from the parking lot they were met with clothing stores and bistros to the left, white sand and ocean water to the right, and a wooden walkway under their feet.

Austin was pissed again.

Outwardly, a light sheen of sweat formed beneath the band of his hat and along his armpits. Clenching his back molars gave his jaw this impossible angularity and tightened his lips into a thin line. Even the blonde's brown eyes had hardened, becoming even more incredibly intense with their dilated pupils darting franticly about. He was almost speed-walking, hoping to reach the other end of the boardwalk as quickly as possible and practically dragging Ally in the process. Their footsteps, especially his, thumped and thudded ominously against the weathered wood beneath them. And that was just on the outside.

Inside, Austin's rage soared to temperatures that could melt steel. His blood was frothy with the heat. His muscles twitched in rigid tension. Another spike in Fahrenheit and surely his viscera would bubble with 3rd degree burns. And that was just his physical body.

Austin's mind was where the real danger lived. Within his skull a tornado spun at devastating speeds, greying his clarity and blaring like a train horn. There were really only 3 major things whirling around in that mental twister: 1) Ally's bruise, 2) Dallas, and 3) Mike Moon. Everything else, the debris and the dust, were just facets of that consuming trio. When Austin told Ally that he didn't need Mimi or Diane anymore because he had her, the blonde wasn't kidding. He had her….or rather she seemed to have him in the palm of her hand, minty green nails and all. So as far as he was concerned that bruise on her collarbone and that massive pain in her past were both utterly unacceptable. DALLAS was fucking unacceptable. And all Austin could think about was finding that fucking fucker and making sure he'd never be able to stick his dick in anyone or anything ever again. That's what was flying around his white and grey matter, hurtling against the flat bones of his head.

And at the base of it all…was Mike. It had always been Mike.

It wasn't even just about the past anymore. Yes, Austin resented his father for being so violent, for being so verbally abusive. But even more than that, he hated that the middle-aged son of Gerald and Tess had abandoned life so suddenly and left Austin to teeter insanely between relief and grief. Before Mike went racing partially to the grave and partially to the afterlife, the blonde contained his rage with music and narcotics. But he had a hard time believing they'd be enough anymore, not when there was sorrow layered into the fury and all of it caked in thick and bitter heartache. His dead father still had a grip on him.

Austin was a volatile body of emotions and those 3 white lines made him severely unstable. He tried to remember the names of the boardwalk's most popular bars but his mind could scarcely think straight. As he stomped down the wooden walkway with Ally in tow, his bottomless black pupils searched the crowd with a murderous intent.

"Austin!" her voice pierced his inner turmoil.

"Huh?" he answered without stopping and barely turning his head to glance at her.

"I said where are we going?"

He didn't answer. He was far too distracted, his gaze lingering on nearly every guy they passed. They were nearing the pier on the right, where the boardwalk itself extended far out across the sand and over the water, providing the masses with some pretty decent fishing opportunities, a ferris wheel, and even a couple of food trucks. On any given day it was littered with middle-aged men in khaki shorts casting their reels or small children stuffed with ice cream, racing towards the carnival games and leaving their weary mothers behind. It was too late at night for all that now. Still, Austin craned his neck and attempted to look down the entire length of the pier as they passed. Everything was dormant. The ferris wheel, usually brightly lit and constantly circling, sat motionless and dark like a metaphor for broken childhoods. They continued on until the vacant pier gave way to sand and sea yet again and the casual bistros on the left transitioned to more formal restaurants. His heart was still thundering against his ribs. His eyes were still darting around like a crazy person's. God he just wanted to find the motherfucker that had the nerve to go on posting douchey Instagram pictures while Ally could barely leave her house. Austin had to seriously concentrate on not crushing the brunette's hand in his own as rage continue to roil and thrash and sear his insides. The fancy eateries on the left finally began a gradual transition to bars and nightclubs. The blonde guitarist slowed his pace a little and scrutinized the passing faces with an even more intense concentration. He just wanted to find that Dallas guy and rip the eyelids right off of his goddamn face and let him fucking TRY to wink-

Suddenly, with a lung-filling gasp of utter shock, Ally's hand wrenched violently from his grasp. Austin whirled around and was met with eyes so burning angry and furiously bronze that, for a second, he thought he might've called her 'Ally-cat' without thinking. But no, this was a different kind of fury.

"Oh my God you're _looking_ for him aren't you!?" she shouted, pointing a finger in his face.

And he didn't even have the patience or presence of mind left to lie.

"Yeah so what if I am?" The blonde craned his neck, unable to stop searching and completely not in the mood for this side of her.

"SERIOUSLY Austin!? Are you out of your fucking mind!?"

"Ally we don't have time for this shit!" he finally looked at her, barely containing his rage because Dallas was _in_ Miami for fuck's sake and maybe, just maybe, he was strolling around the boardwalk with that arrogant grin of his.

"Why are you looking for him!?"

"What the fuck do you mean why!?" Austin frowned, already severely impatient as he kept looking around for his target, "What kind of fucking question is that!? Take a wild guess."

She pressed both palms to the sides of her head as an ache of sheer panic filled the sinuses there. Ally squeezed her eyes shut tight, whispering under her labored breathing, "OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod. How could you do this Austin?"

Her terrified gaze pierced him. They were starting to attract attention. And then, abruptly, Ally began to laugh these tremulous and sporadic giggles that made absolutely no sense. "How could you bring me here!? How could you do this!?"

"How could _I_ do this!?" Austin was dangerously high, swallowing her with his lightless pupils, "How about how could _he_ do this!? For fuck's sake!"

She was still laughing like a lunatic despite the absolute horror of her facial expression, "Nononononono I can't be here. I can't be here!"

"But _he_ can!? You can't be here but you're gonna let _him_ go wherever he wants?!"

"That's not up to me!"

"IT IS UP TO YOU!" he was screaming.

"It's not!"

"IT IS UP TO YOU THOUGH RIGHT!?" and there were veins bulging at his temples, "You didn't tell anybody so now he gets to do whatever he wants! It's bullshit Ally!"

"I didn't tell anyone!?" her face twisted at the complete insensitivity of those words, "Fuck you!" she cried, "How dare you!"

"It's bullshit and you know it!"

"FUCK YOU!"

"Well if you're not gonna handle it then I will!" he turned to continue down the boardwalk.

Ally threw herself at him, latching onto his arm with a vice-like grip. "Austin no please PLEASE!" she gasped, her voice scraping her throat raw, "I don't want you to find him PLEASE AUSTIN _PLEASE_!"

"I don't wanna fucking hear it Ally!"

Groups of people, drunk and sober, stopped to stare.

Austin turned and tried to pull away from her trembling hands, one perfect and one gauze-wrapped around the palm. There were tears brimming in her wide, panicked eyes but he was way too far gone to register the ache in that old soft spot of his.

"AUSTIN PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE _PLEASE_ I'M BEGGING YOU PLEASE DON'T!"

"It's bullshit Ally! Let go of me!"

Austin backed away from her, trying to shake her petrified grasp.

"What the fuck watch where you're going!" a voice cried out as the blonde ran directly into someone.

His anger, his pure unabashed rage was already exploding in slow motion with Ally's resistance. And in that moment it flared into full detonation.

Austin was instantly the most dangerous he'd ever been.

"HEY FUCK YOU YOU ASSHOLE!" he whirled around to face the guy, yanking forcefully from Ally's clutches.

"Fuck you!" it was some black-haired, super tan, Jersey-shore wannabe with the stench of tequila coming off of him in potent waves.

Somewhere in the distance, beyond comprehension even, he could hear Ally Dawson's voice crying out to him. But how was he supposed to hear anything when his fist was already connecting with the guy's jaw? How was he supposed to understand whatever she was shouting when his knuckles were delivering that first blow, bruising artificially tan skin and sending a surge of adrenaline roaring throughout his entire body? He couldn't really register much of anything after that. He knew he was in a fight, he'd been in plenty of those before. He knew where he should aim and he knew what it meant when he threw a punch and pain exploded in his hand and rattled all the way up to his shoulder. And he knew what it meant when agony popped then crackled on the left side of his mouth. He knew the taste of blood and the sound of an angel's voice screaming from what must've been the heavens above because he couldn't even begin to make out the words.

What Austin wasn't familiar with was this level of wrath overwhelming every sense he had. He was used to being angry sure, but never had he combined it with grief and vengeance. Never had he dusted such a dangerous combination with 3 ample bumps of cocaine then tossed it all into a fist fight. No this new kind of vehemence evolved into something inhuman as he pushed against the hulking hunk of muscles and hair gel and tackled him to the ground. And all at once he was on top of the guy and his arms were moving with robotic strikes again and again and again and again and again….he rained his fists down on him, only ignoring the scream of his knuckles because a beautiful and potent white horse had numbed his fingertips. And when he saw the red it was just as vivid and just as inviting but he knew that, this time, Ally wasn't waiting for him on the other side of it. This time it was dynamic, splattering and pooling beneath him. And it was coating his fist with each throw, enticing him to continue, to keep going until the red was done flowing. And he could feel every powerful connection. And he could hear every wet crunch.

And he couldn't stop…

He could not stop…

He didn't want to stop.

Blood. It finally registered in his brain. The red was blood.

And then he was being pulled up by his arms and the pain, delayed before, began to seep into his hands. Whoever had a grip on Austin shoved him hard and he felt himself go down. Somewhere far off that lovely voice called his name. He laid there face up, warm sand scratching the nape of his neck and the small of his back where his shirt had ridden up. His hat had come off. Up above there were just stars, dusted against a never-ending sheet of indigo.

"Austin!" the voice called him again, more frantic and less lovely.

Suddenly the stars were gone, replaced by a pair of the biggest brown eyes he'd ever seen with pupils that were slowly but surely returning to their normal size.

"Austin come on you have to get up those other guys are pissed!" the voice spoke rapidly.

He came mostly back to himself, enough to scramble to his feet and grimace at the warm sand and sheer agony climbing his knuckles.

"Come on." Ally was there, one small hand wrapped around his arm and the other clutching his hat. They walked as Austin tried to comprehend what was happening. His hands hurt. His face hurt. His arms felt limp and fatigued, especially the right. He pressed his fingertips to his mouth and they came away red. Warmth dripped down his chin.

"Fucking asshole." He could barely speak as his heart hammered wildly, trying to compensate for the drugs and the adrenaline.

"Austin just shut up okay!" Her grip tightened on his arm as she led him back up the boardwalk.

Everyone they passed was staring, most through the lens of a smart phone. But he swallowed the urge to shout 'What the fuck are you looking at?!' as he slowly regained his inhibitions.

"I can't believe you." Ally mumbled under her breath as _she_ practically dragged _him_ past the restaurants this time.

"Me?! That motherfucker was-!"

"Shut up Austin!" and that was when he could hear the change in her voice. He looked at her as they rushed across the wooden flooring. Beneath her tightly furrowed brow, the whites of Ally's eyes glistened pale red. A tear was barely able to escape before she swiped it furiously away.

"Ally-"

"Just SHUT! UP!"

The furious brunette pulled Austin up to a bench sitting just outside of a small 24 hour diner. Using his utter exhaustion against him, she pushed the blonde down on his ass, his back to the diner's large front window, his front facing the beach.

"Ally what-"

"Stay here."

And with that she flung his snapback at him with angry force, turned, and entered the diner. He twisted in his seat, his brown eyes following her as she walked up to the counter with a sweet smile pasted on. The middle-aged blonde lady behind the register regarded her with a skeptical eyebrow, even letting her gaze wander down below Ally's neckline. The brunette immediately pulled the collar of her sweater up and added a little more sugar to her smile, trying hard to distract Miss Diner Waitress from her marooning skin.

Austin turned back around, looking out over the sand and its distant water. Ally was pissed at him. He slid his hat on backwards, careful not to bend his sore hands too much. And when the black canvas, with its Mötley Crüe logo slightly sandy, was sitting comfortably over his blond locks, the 23 year old sighed.

His high was coming down.

He leaned a little to the side and spat. The left side of his face had begun to throb incessantly. The blonde examined his knuckles in the yellow glow of the diner's fluorescent lighting. His right hand was covered in quickly drying blood that obscured whatever damage was there. The left faired a bit better, only sporting a smear or two of darkening red over his inflamed skin.

"Ugh." He turned his head to spit again as his mouth gradually filled with the taste of old pennies. A glob of bloody saliva splattered to the wooden planks. Very gingerly, the blonde explored the left side of his mouth with the tip of his tongue, hissing when he probed a flap of skin that definitely wasn't supposed to be there. Austin suspected his tooth had cut into it when that Pauly D knockoff socked him in the face. He experimentally pushed the shredded piece of his cheek back into place, but only managed to create another warm gush of blood and an excruciating jab of pain. He spit again then leaned back into the bench.

"Hey!"

Austin was immediately at full attention. He sat up straight and rigid, his head snapping in the direction of the sudden call and, to his own surprise, his hands instantly balling into tight fists despite the pain. But it wasn't the overly tanned fucktard back for round 2 like he expected. Down the boardwalk a couple of random guys greeted each other loudly and with fist bumps. It took a few seconds but Austin eventually relaxed again.

Paranoia, hiding in the deceptively calm decline of his high, was rapidly snaking about the base of his brain. And, suddenly, Ally had been gone for way too long.

He turned to peer inside the diner. The blonde cashier was still there but no sign of Ally. Austin stood.

"Shit." the word slipped out under his breath as panic consumed him just as quickly as the paranoia. His eyes scanned the entire space, as if he'd spot her sitting having an impossibly late dinner or something other ridiculous thing. But she was nowhere in sight. No turquoise sweater, no grey leggings. He whirled around, the panic mushrooming within him because what if Dallas had been in there when Ally walked in? What if he'd shot her a wink and turned her blood to ice just before he grabbing her wrist and dragging her out the back? Austin's wide eyes traced the beach and boardwalk before him. Then he began to pace.

What if Dallas didn't have her? What if Ally ditched him? Sweat didn't quite break across his forehead but threatened to as heat built beneath his skin. What if she'd finally opened up to someone, to _him_ , and then regretted it as she watched him behave like some kind of drug-crazed animal? What if she snuck out the rear of the diner without another thought, without even giving the back of his blonde head a second glance?

"Fuck!" he attempted to run a hand through his hair but only met the rough fabric of his hat. She was gone. She'd never want to speak to him again after what happened. Their last moments together and he'd spent them pounding some jackass into a bloody pulp and making her cry. His heart grew so heavy with the weight of this undeniable revelation that he bent just slightly at the waist. His stomach turned, fear, panic, and regret suddenly an extremely toxic combination souring his gut. He tried to rake both hands through his hair this time, to pull it until his scalp screamed and his anxiety fell away. But the Mötley Crüe cap brushed his palms again. Ally had told him her darkest, most agonizing secret and he'd immediately brought her to the boardwalk to come face to face with it. He was an asshole. He was a fucking asshole. And, finally realizing that, the brunette had abandoned him.

Austin flopped back down on the bench and held his head in his hands. Another sigh escaped him. This time it was one of those 'Mimi' sighs. The kind that took more than just air out of him.

"Okay I got some ice and-"

"Ally!?" he was up on his feet again as the brown-eyed songwriter came out of the diner with her arms full.

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, her pace slowing as she approached, "Yeeaaahhh. Who else would it be?"

"Uh no one." He sat back down as heat flooded his face. But beneath the fabric of his shirt, the thin skin and the flat bones of his chest, Austin's heart leapt repeatedly in massive relief.

"Okaaaay." She sat beside him.

"Where were you?" he asked it as casually as he could without revealing the full magnitude of his paranoia.

"Ummm inside….?" She sat up straight after placing 2 large paper cups and a wad of paper towels on the ground. And then she sighed, her shoulders sagging disappointedly, "Are you still high?"

"Me? Uh no I'm um I'm coming down now so…" he wasn't completely sober but switching from sheer anxiety to overwhelming relief in the span of a second had him kind of flustered.

Ally rolled her eyes and reached into her purse "Okay well…" she pulled out a bottle of Tylenol, quickly unscrewed the cap, and shook out 2 little white pills, "…here take these for the pain. Your hand must be hurting pretty bad. I don't think they'll have any adverse effects since you're coming down."

He held his hand out and watched her drop the duo of oblong tablets into it. Her eyes were no longer red. She was speaking to him with the clinical, uncaring tone of someone who no longer gave a shit. His panic flared.

"Ally I'm-"

"Here." She thrust one of the cups at him. It was full of water. He tossed the pills in his mouth and took a quick swig before handing it back to her. The coolness stung his cut mouth at first then immediately soothed it.

"Thanks."

Ally wasn't even looking at him. Instead she focused on dunking a few of the paper towels in the cup of water before setting it back on the ground.

"Give me your hand." She demanded.

And when he presented her with his right, all caked with dried blood and beach sand, Austin watched her take in a deep breath and whisper, "Oh my gosh."

For a moment she just sat there staring and his leg began to bounce lightly up and down with the passing seconds. He thought she might run. But the brunette grasped his hand, unsurely yet gently, and started to wipe away the grit.

"You're pissed at me."

He spoke softly but with the certainty of someone stating a fact. His gaze followed the nimble movements her hands made before flashing up to her face, hoping the beautiful musician would look at him.

She just sighed, her eyes glued to his filthy knuckles, "Austin-"

"I shouldn't have dragged you down here like this especially after what you told me." He watched her stiffen just slightly, "This was the fucking dumbest shit I've ever done if you can believe that." He chuckled nervously but she didn't even crack a smile, didn't even look up. Austin licked his lips as she unearthed his inflamed knuckles from the sand and blood, "I know it may not seem like it but you _can_ trust me with that kind of stuff. You don't ever have to hate wanting to."

She was silent. His anxiety returned, like insects creeping and crawling around underneath his skin.

"Ally come on say _something_." He stared at her dark eyelashes, spreading like fans across her cheeks as she kept her head down.

"Give me your other hand." She replied in that same detached tone.

He held it out with no hesitation. They were both quiet as she cleaned what little blood was marring his left hand. And the silence was immediately too much too bear.

"Come on madam Ally." he was on the verge of begging, "…I'm sorry."

She put the red stained paper towels off to the side and wordlessly picked up a couple of clean ones. He watched and waited and grew more anxious as she dunked them in the water. And when Ally reached up to start wiping the blood from around his mouth, a crackling of electricity climbed his spine.

"Don't call me that." She said almost robotically.

And it was strange to have her speak to him with that coldness while still touching him so tenderly. The tip of her finger brushed the very corner of his lips and Austin knew then that she wasn't done with him. And he definitely wasn't done with her. Not when he could stare at her brown eyes and have her _finally_ look back. They sat like that, gazes locked, for a few tense but glorious seconds, before she returned to the task at hand. The cool paper towels ran across his chin.

"I told the cashier inside that you were hurt and asked her if you could use the bathroom and she said no. Can you believe that?" Ally said, her voice normal again, caring again.

"No I can't." he answered even though he knew it was a rhetorical question. The blonde didn't want to risk stopping their sudden conversation.

"I don't hate wanting to trust you." She said after another pause, "Well…not fully anyway. When you're you….like _normal_ you and you look at me and say things that make me feel like I'm not falling apart. That's when trusting you doesn't seem so bad." She finished cleaning his face and dropped her hands to her lap. Their eyes met again, "But when you're….this Austin," she gestured vaguely towards him, "high as a kite and nearly stomping strangers into nothing-"

"It was-"

"It was scary Austin." She spoke over him, "And it just reminds me that I really don't know you very well."

He thought about that as she reached for the other paper cup. He was far more forthcoming than she'd ever been and yet she didn't truly know him, not really. Austin was giving her drugs and encouraging her to relinquish herself to their mind-numbing powers and yet, she didn't even know _why_ he was snorting shit into his airways and sparking up owl-shaped bowls. His high was diminishing, his heart rate was regulating.

Ally reached into her shirt and pulled a clear plastic trash bag from her bra. His eyebrow rose in surprise and amusement.

"Umm…what was that?" he smirked.

"Ugh. That rude woman wouldn't even give me a to-go bag to put this ice in." she shook the bag open and poured the contents of the 2nd large cup into it, "I had to steal this one from the trash can in the bathroom."

"Ew." Austin recoiled from her.

"Oh no it was a replacement bag from under the sink. It's clean." Her face tinged pink.

"Oh."

She was about to tie the bag into a knot but reached inside and grabbed an ice cube first, "Here." She held it out to him, "For the inside of your cheek. You cut it right?"

"Yeah." He popped it in his mouth, "How'd you know?"

"You were bleeding profusely."

He pressed the ice to his sagging flap of flesh. Blood oozed out from behind it, coating his back molars. And the frigid temperature stung briefly before a deep numbness spread through his cheek. He turned his head to spit once more.

Ally scrunched up her nose in disgust, "Better?"

"Walk with me?"

"Um what?" Ally finally smiled, albeit more out of the absurdity of the question than anything else.

He took the bag from her as she finished tying a knot into it and placed it over his aching right hand. The cold was searing and soothing at the same time.

"You heard me." He spoke softly with a giant hunk of ice pushed into his cheek, "Walk with me Ally."

"How else are we supposed to get back to the car?" she deadpanned.

"You know what I mean." He searched her brown eyes, "Let's go down to the water. We'll walk and we'll _talk_ like we usually do. None of this 'speaking to me like you don't give a shit anymore' crap, but real, actual conversation. You can really get to know me." He pointed at her, hastily adding, "AND I get to call you madam Ally. Non-negotiable."

She looked down, something chipping away at her obvious hesitation. Over the past frantic moments, a few more strands of her hair had pulled out of the pink rubber band holding all those weathered curls together. They hung in her face as she collected the cups and paper towels. The blonde ends of Ally's ponytail swung forward, brushing against her jawbone just like they'd done in his car, sweeping over Rihanna's lustful magazine cover as the 20 year old inhaled potent white dust. His eyes trailed a little lower to the bruise reaching out from underneath her sweater with pale yellow edges and big patches of maroon.

She sighed, letting her eyes creep up to his.

"Fine."

It was a pity walk. It had to be. But beneath the thick muck of his own self-doubt, Austin's heart did it again, that breath-stealing tremor.

He offered to carry her shoes but she declined. The floral Birkenstocks dangled from her fingers as she strode out into ankle deep water.

"It's cold!" she called to him as he stayed in the more 'toe-high' side of things.

"Yeah no shit." he grinned.

He hadn't gotten a word from her on the bench as she tied the bag of ice to his hand with some extra gauze from her purse. There had been complete silence as they walked off the boardwalk and trekked across the sand, noiseless except for the low crunch of microscopic granules beneath their bare soles. Then her feet hit ocean water and all of a sudden they were on speaking terms again.

"You're not going to come out here?!" Ally asked over the roar of the waves, her leggings rolled up to mid-shin.

He was going to say no but he didn't want to ruin the progress he was making with whatever it was he and the brunette had. And his sneakers were already hanging on his fingers and his joggers were already pushed up to his knees. So he waded out to where she stood swirling her toes in the water and smiling like it was the most serene thing she'd ever felt. He reached her and they began to walk in the direction of the parking lot. Austin munched on the remnants of his ice cube, relishing the pacifying numbness in his cheek. He explored the wound with his tongue and discovered that the bleeding had stopped. He carefully shifted the ice bag strapped to his hand. Even when she was pissed off and disappointed, Ally had still tended to his injuries.

"Hey I…" he paused to clear his throat, "I really am sorry about all of this…bringing you here, yelling at you like I did. I was being a dick and the blow's no excuse." He was hardly the apologizing type, but he could tell when something needed to be said, needed to be emphasized.

"In my defense though that Jersey Shore looking guy was a fucking asshole AND he hit me in my face what else was I supposed to do?"

Ally looked at him like he was crazy, "But _you_ hit _him_ first."

"Well yeah but-…..touché Dawson."

She laughed then, only a little, and just under her breath, but a laugh all the same. Austin stuffed his left hand in his pocket casually.

"Ally, I uh know it probably doesn't seem like it but I do appreciate you telling me what happened to you." He looked at her but she stared down at the dark grey water. "I know you were high as hell when you said it but I hope you know you can trust me with that kind of stuff, coke or no coke."

Her gaze didn't let up. It remained submerged in the Atlantic Ocean. Austin waited. He was not a patient guy in the least, but for her he waited. And when she spoke it was with a voice so tiny, the crashing waves nearly swallowed it whole.

"There's one part of that story that I didn't tell you."

Again he waited as 2 pairs of feet sloshed through the water and mud. This time her voice shook.

"When he uh...When he…f-f-finished," the word flung from her lips like something to be disposed of. Ally closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, "Uh when he finished….he didn't just say ' _That wasn't so bad huh Ally-cat?'_."

"What'd he say?"

She chewed on her bottom lip. Another quick closing of her eyes. Another slow, lung filling breath. It struck him then how truly difficult this was for her sober.

"Um well he did say that but that wasn't the _first_ thing he said." She swiped the stray strands of hair from her face, "Right before he r-…rolled off of me the first thing he said was…' _Sorry'_. Like he just accidentally bumped my shoulder in the hallway or something."

She stopped. He stopped. Ally pressed a hand to her forehead, eyebrows knitting together in painful worry as the final details came kicking and screaming out of her.

"Oh God Austin. He _apologized_ to me! And then do you know what I said? Do you know what _I_ , Ally Dawson, said to the guy who just raped me and apologized for it?"

"Wh-"

"I said ' _Oh uh it's okay.'_." She looked at him, devastation all over her face, "I'm such a people-pleasing pushover that my automatic response to EVERYTHING is 'it's okay'! You cut in front of me in line? It's okay. You make me do all the work in our group project? It's okay. You want to hold me down and force me to have sex with you? It's OKAY!"

She flung her arms out and raised her eyebrows as if she was surprised at herself, "What the hell is wrong with me Austin?!"

"Noth-"

"There MUST be something wrong with me because I told him that it was OKAY to RAPE me! There must be something wrong with me because not only did I cheat on the perfect guy, but a few months later I'm throwing lemonade in his face and breaking up with him in front of a room full of people!" she shook her head, "Jesus Christ. No wonder I got raped."

"Ally what the fuck? Don't say shit like that."

"But it's true!"

"No it's not fucking true!" he was more hurt than angry, a very unfamiliar ratio for the blonde.

"Think about it!" she began to count on her fingers, "I turn Trent into a monster then he starts hitting me. I dump him in public then I get raped. I don't go to the police about Dallas and I randomly run into him FOURTEEN HUNDRED MILES from where I thought I left him! I'm being punished! I deserve all of this!"

"Ally are you fucking kidding me right now?" he gently took her shoulders, attempting to hold her together as she systematically destroyed herself.

"It's just like you said Austin. It's up to me." Her brown eyes were nearly black with sorrow, "It's up to _ME_! I'm letting Dallas have his freedom by not saying anything!"

Pain, bone deep and merciless, pierced his core. And all at once he didn't know which was more heartbreaking: her tragic way of thinking or the tears that trickled across her face and sparkled in the moonlight. Austin took her wrist gently in his hand, careful not to make her drop her sandals, and led her up onto the dry sand. Ally was tethering him to reality with just that slender wrist in his palm. He couldn't afford to suffocate under his enormous guilt because her limbs were trembling and she needed him. And he was supporting her too, with a tender grasp, assuring her that at least one person was there to offer something as precious as understanding. He picked a spot on the vacant beach and sat down, prompting her to sit beside him. They crossed their legs Indian-style, turned slightly to face each other. And he made sure he had her full attention before he ignored the throbbing in his hand and spoke.

"Ally listen to me." He captured her wide gaze, "Fuck whatever I said back there okay. I didn't know what I was talking about. I was being a fucking idiot and I had no idea what I was even saying alright. I was high out of my mind."

"But-"

"No buts Ally." He kept his voice somewhat firm because he really needed her to hear this, he needed to end this ultra-destructive thought process that she had, "This is normal Austin talking, you know the one you said you felt like you could trust? The one that's not a complete shithead?"

She hesitated then nodded before wiping her face.

"This is that Austin right now. You're not being punished for anything Ally." He paused to wander her brown eyes for a second, "No one deserves that kind of pain, especially not you okay? Sometimes shitty things happen to awesome people. But none of it was your fault and you didn't deserve any of it."

The brunette bit her lip but didn't respond. Austin's mouth went dry.

"You're…remarkable." He rasped, tracing every outline of her face, around her lips, curving about her nose, defining each expressive eye.

And suddenly all of those lines seemed to be curving upwards as she ducked her head to hide a shy smile.

He grinned, "Okay?"

She wiped her face again and took a deep breath, "Okay."

And Austin knew that she wasn't just magically done blaming herself for all the pain. He knew from experience that those deep, hemorrhaging kind of wounds took forever to heal, and that's if they ever did at all. No, Ally wasn't fine, she wasn't fixed, but he didn't expect his little pep talk to cure her emotional sickness. But if it helped to dry her burning tears and liberate her sunshine smile and brighten her bronze irises then that was victory….warm, metallic, and wonderfully painful.

"You want to head to the car?" he moved to stand.

"Can we just sit here for a little while?"

Austin obliged, sitting back on his bottom. He planted his feet flat on the ground and folded his arms over the tops of his knees. It took him by surprise when Ally, sober Ally, scooted close and laid her head on his shoulder. Their shoes, flowery Birkenstocks and black Vans, sat patiently on the golden grains. The pair stared out at the dark ocean as it churned in perpetual motion.

"He just seemed so nice in the beginning." She sighed. "It's crazy how people can act a certain way then do something so completely unexpected."

Austin scoffed, "Tell me about it."

"Do you know someone like that?"

"Correction. I _knew_ someone like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well he's taking a dirt nap now."

Her head shot up off of his shoulder, "Your dad?"

"Ding ding ding ding." Austin sounded the imaginary bell.

"Is that why you two didn't get along?"

He didn't say anything for a moment. They both sat there listening to the ever-present rush of the sea. Austin tried to focus on all the surrounding sensations as his heart began to pick up speed: the sand beneath him, the dark sky, the darker ocean, the pain pulsating across his bruised knuckles, the feel of Ally being so close. And then he made himself speak, before he lost his nerve.

"Let me show you something." He leaned away from her a little and lifted the left side of his shirt, exposing his ribs. Tattooed there, almost in the exact same spot as the shredded mattress on his right, was one word: 'invictus'. It was written as if typed in a large, neat font and with each lowercase 'i' sporting an oversized dot.

"Invictus." she read it then looked at him with those big eyes, "What does that mean?"

"It's Latin for unconquerable." He let his shirt fall back into place. "It's the title of a poem I had to read in 10th grade."

"Wow. I barely remember anything from 10th grade."

He cracked a smile, "I remember it because it changed everything."

"How so?"

"I mean…" he probed the cut in his mouth again, garnering a few small bolts of pain, "I mean I read that poem and then like 5 days later….I was gone."

Brown eyes met brown eyes.

"You ran away."

It was more a statement than a question. She still remembered Austin telling her that he saved every cent he made at Moon's Mattress Kingdom because he wanted to leave. She remembered asking him why then watching his fingers run through his hair and his brown eyes darken before he simply replied ' _Because I was miserable_ '.

"My dad and I had a pretty good relationship when I was little." He began carefully. She watched him and he watched the water, "He'd play Legos with me and he taught me how to ride a bike, you know all of that typical dad shit. Overall he was….an okay guy. Even I can admit that."

"I only met him once or twice when I came back for Christmas break but he seemed nice." Ally carefully offered, "And my Dad went on and on about what a great deal he gave him on a couple of new mattresses."

"Yeah he was always a good businessman. Good businessman….okay dad…kind of crappy husband."

"Crappy how?"

"He kind of had this 'way' about him. He was strict sometimes. I wouldn't say he was like a tyrant or anything but if he got something into his head then that was that. He was the epitome of 'my way or the highway' you know what I mean? With me AND Mom."

She nodded.

"He would boss her around and do things out of spite, just to show her that he was in control. Like little passive aggressive bullshit. Like sometimes when he got mad at her over something, he'd stop and grab takeout on his way home from work when he knew that she was already cooking." Austin shook his head, remembering all too well, "He'd come in the house with a pizza box or a McDonald's bag in his hand and this big grin on his face. And of course I'm 6 years old going ape shit over a burger and fries. I could care less that Mimi just spent the whole day looking after me and the past few HOURS preparing dinner. No, I was too busy jumping up and down at Mike's feet, begging for my Happy Meal." Austin chewed his bottom lip, picturing the familiar scenario in his mind, "And when he bent down to hand me the burger or the greasy carton or whatever he'd brought, he would always shoot my mom this glance. It was just a quick little flash of his brown eyes and I never thought anything of it at the time but…..He was sending her message with that glance. She'd stand there in the kitchen doorway with her apron strings tied, just completely exhausted, and get this devastated look on her face because all that hard work over the stove, that entire labor of love, was unappreciated and undermined by the man she'd married. And, as if that petty bullshit wasn't enough, he always gave her a glance because he knew she was standing there. He asserted himself with those eyes. He told her, with just his irises and pupils alone, that he was in charge and she should think twice before pissing him off again. He didn't do shit like that all the time but I think something inside of Mimi faded every time he did." Austin suddenly chuckled, "And I was too young and stupid to understand how she could possibly look so sad when we were having pizza for dinner, like that was just the coolest thing ever. I'd always go up to her while she stood crumbling just inside the kitchen and I'd hold up the junk food to and try to get her as excited as me. I mean Dad had just rescued us from broccoli and meatloaf how could she NOT be excited about that? And she'd smile down at me but it was always weak because Mike had just given her that glance and put her in her place."

He stopped to prod the inside of his cheek again, hoping the pain would somehow depress his sudden desire for a cigarette.

"She never got excited enough about my Happy Meals so eventually I stopped trying to make her and I stopped noticing the way her shoulders sagged and her face fell in the doorway of the kitchen. It wasn't until I was 8 or 9 that I realized she'd stopped standing there altogether. When my Dad walked in with some more food that wasn't hers she just turned off all the appliances she'd have going and go upstairs to pout or sulk or who knows what." Austin started to untie the gauze on his hand carefully, "Then the 'who knows what' turned out to be crying. I think the first time I caught her it was because I was bragging to my friends that I had found an arrow head in my backyard. So I ran back into the house to grab it but I stopped because I had to pass her bedroom to get to my bedroom and I heard her. I knew what crying sounded like but I had no idea what my mom's crying sounded like. And I remember a little sliver of fear crept down my spine at just the sound alone. I had never heard her cry before but I'd seen enough movies to know that a mom crying either meant divorce or a grandparent died and I wanted so badly to unhear that noise, go grab my arrow head, and enjoy the jealous looks on my friends' faces. But I didn't. I couldn't. She was my mom and she was sad so I had to do something. So I pushed her door open carefully. She was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap and her head bowed. I remember thinking how, in her casual dress and proper position, she looked like she belonged in the pew of a church, not the cramped bedroom of some cheap one story. I also remember how still she was, even after I opened the door all the way and stood there staring at the top of her head. She was almost completely motionless except for the tears dripping from her face and splashing against her arms….and then her shoulders would shudder a little as she struggled to breathe. When I called out to her she tried to hurry and clean herself up and slap on a smile but I knew even then that unseeing was even more impossible than unhearing."

He unwound the gaze and removed the bag of ice from his right hand. A gentle attempt at flexing it made him cringe. His digits were stiff with this deeply painful numbness. He set the plastic bag beside him in the sand.

"I asked her what was wrong but she just kept saying it was nothing. She wanted to pretend it had never happened and so did I. Like you have no idea how badly I did. But at the same time there was this kind of ache in the back of my brain that wouldn't let me leave her while she was so obviously upset. I forgot all about the arrow head. I stayed with her instead, asking if she needed any help with dinner. She smiled a real smile then. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen chopping and stirring things and making her laugh as much as I could."

"Awwww that's so cute." Ally smiled.

He rolled his eyes playfully, "Relax Dawson."

"I think it's sweet."

"Yeah yeah yeah." He ran a hand down his suddenly blushing face, "So anyway, after that I pay closer attention and I start to see the way my dad treats her. And, instead of trying to unhear the sound of her crying, I actively listen for it and hope that I can make her smile again. I mean, I don't want you to think Mike was just an asshole all the time." He glanced over at the brunette, "I'm pretty sure he loved her at least to some extent. Most of the time he was sweet to her. You know, sneaking kisses when she wasn't paying attention or bringing her 'Just because it's Tuesday' flowers and all kinds of lovey dovey shit like that. It's just when she defied him even in the slightest or if her actions somehow stopped things from going his way, he was cruel," the blonde's brown eyes hardened, "…and he was merciless. So the relationship between me and my mom became one of this sort of reverse reliance. I was a kid comforting his mother when she was sad and picking up the pieces when a bully pushed her to tears. I was there for her whenever she needed me, even when I wanted to go out and play with my friends, even when the sight and sound of her being so miserable made my heart hurt more than I thought I could bear sometimes." Austin paused as a familiar darkness began to seep into his chest cavity, "I was there for her _whenever_ she needed me Ally. So when Mike starts hitting me…I can't even begin to understand why Mimi doesn't do shit about it."

"He _hit_ you?" Ally gasped in disturbed surprise.

He grinned as he opened the bag of ice and took a cube out, "Didn't expect that from the mattress king huh?"

She just looked at him, concern flickering in her brown eyes like flames, "Keep going."

He stuffed the hunk of ice into his mouth and pressed it to his cheek as pain reawakened in it. And when a cold tingle began to close over his wound, Austin watched the waves lap at the shore.

"It all started on my 11th birthday really. I wanted a guitar more than anything, more than a party or even a cake. I had already been in love with music for as long as my brain could physically remember, but it wasn't until my 5th grade music appreciation class that I just became hopelessly obsessed with it. I begged my parents for a two-toned sunburst Fender Strat because I fucking worshipped Eric Clapton back then. I _begged_ them for months and I did all my fucking chores and I was the most well-behaved 10 year old in Miami. But when my birthday rolled around I didn't get a guitar. And when I asked my dad why he said because I needed to focus on learning business so I could run the store after he retired and learning to play the guitar would just be a distraction. I was 11 and he wanted me to learn _business_." Austin spat the word out, "It was fucking bullshit. And even back then I knew it was fucking bullshit. I mean I was in the 5th grade for Christ's sake gimme a fucking break. And it was at that exact moment that I truly began to resent him. I remember it like it was just yesterday like it's seared into my brain. I remember feeling something click inside of me and I suddenly saw Mike for the controlling, overbearing man that he really was. I'd been drying Mimi's tears for the past 2 years so I already wasn't his biggest fan. But when he looked me in my eyes and told me that guitars, MUSIC, things that were already rooted in my heart even before it was done growing, were nothing but distractions I just….I mean he'd already made up my life for me and I had only JUST turned 11 and in that moment, even surrounded by balloons and ripped wrapping paper, I truly disliked him. I didn't hate him. But I really didn't fucking like him."

Austin took a moment to shift the ice cube around a bit and give his cheek a break from the relentless numbing. Ally was silent beside him.

"I started working in the mattress store a few months later. They had me 'shadowing' some of the salesmen and helping with inventory you know simple stuff. And I hated- Ally I _hated_ being there so much I wanted to scream. It was so boring and tedious and all I could think was that if I spent those hours taking guitar lessons instead of learning about mattresses I could've been up on stage with Bob Dylan before my 13th birthday." He chuckled as Ally giggled, "I'm serious. I was losing my sanity bit by bit every day after school from 4 to 8. And that little seed of resentment that Mike planted on my birthday sprouted. So one day, instead of taking the bus straight to the store after school, I went to the music store in the mall. I was there for HOURS messing around with the guitars and talking to the guy working there. He let me play for a while and even gave me like a little impromptu lesson on one of the Strats. It was fucking awesome." Austin licked his lips, suddenly wondering if the high he felt that afternoon at the mall was the one he constantly chased with blow and weed. He bit into the ice cube and munched carefully.

"By the time I got back home it was like 6 or 7 and both my parents were waiting for me. Mom rushed over and hugged me hard enough to squeeze all the air from my lungs. I told her that I was only at the mall and she just cried and held me in her arms. But dad….he watched us for a second with this expressionless face, then went to call the police and tell them that I was back. They sent an officer over anyway just to make sure everything was truly okay. And the entire time the cop was there talking to me, I could see my dad standing behind him with that same flat look. Something told me to speak, to tell the cop that Mike's face hadn't moved at all in the past hour and that there were knots forming in my stomach but I didn't really know why. But I didn't say any of that and the officer left me with a smile and a warning. Mike waited until we heard the patrol car drive away before he started screaming at me. It was the angriest I had seen him so far. His face turned blood red and the veins at his temples and branching down his forehead were like pythons underneath his skin. It scared the shit out of me but I knew that if I backed down then I'd be headed right back to the mattress store and, after playing the guitar for a few hours, I knew I could never stop. So I stood up to him even with fearful tears in my eyes and my heart in my throat. I told him how much I hated the store. I yelled it at him and I shouted how much I loved the feel of that Fender Strat in my hand. I shouted until my throat hurt because he was right there in my face and shouting even louder about how he forbid me from ever experiencing that ever again. And I panicked…..I panicked because I was obsessed with music and I was so deeply in love with the guitar that it hurt in a way that I needed to feel always. So I stood up on my tiptoes and wiped the tears from my face and I _screamed_ that I wasn't going to set another fucking foot back in that store again."

"You said _that_ to your dad."

"I said those EXACT words madam Ally." Austin popped another small chunk of ice in his mouth, "Except I didn't quite get the whole sentence out because 'fucking' left my lips then a quarter of a second later they were both split open and bleeding." He cradled the prickling cold against his fleshy flap of skin, shaking his head, "God, he punched me so fucking hard. I hear my mom yell his name and feel her hands on my shoulders as I go staggering backwards. There's a second where I'm standing there holding my mouth and it just feels warm and cold and numb all at the same time. Then heat starts dripping into my palms and this horrible pain fills the whole bottom half of my face. I look down into my hands and they're splattered with blood and I press them back to my lips and I look up at him but he's already storming out the front door. And then the shock of it wears off and the pain is full force in my mouth but I don't want Mimi to see me crying so I run to my bedroom….and fuck if that wasn't the worst mistake I ever made."

"Why?"

"Because running is weak." He replied, "If I was smart I would've followed him outside with blood in my teeth and blood dripping down my chin and called him a fucking pussy but I didn't. I ran away and he won. I gave him permission to hit me whenever he needed to get his point across." Austin searched for the nearly invisible horizon where midnight sky met black ocean, "And that's exactly what he did."

They were silent for a second that lingered on into a moment. But it was the comfortable kind of silence that they'd somehow mastered in just a few days. It was the sort of noiselessness where Austin knew that he could remain there next to her, not saying anything, and Ally would simply grasp his hand or touch his shoulder just to let him know that she'd stay, quiet and waiting, for as long as he needed. He soaked in that reassurance like sunrays before shifting the ice around in his mouth and clearing his throat.

"He hit me almost every day after that. My own father. Even when I tried my best to please him and especially when I got sick of his shit and mouthed off. He'd slap me in the back of the head for not smiling genuinely enough at the customers. He'd punch me in the stomach for watching guitar tutorials on YouTube when I was supposed to be studying the Mattress Kingdom business model. He'd beat the shit out of me when I told him how much I hated him. For years it went on like that Ally. _Years_."

"What about your mom?" she asked softly.

"Mimi tried to stop him at first but he'd always push her out of the way or give her that glance that she hated so much. Eventually she stopped trying. She'd just go in her room and close the door and try to unhear the sound of me crying. I always tried to make her feel better when Dad treated her like shit. And when he abused me just for being me, she turned her back. I couldn't fucking believe it."

Ally's hand was suddenly on his shoulder, soothing the anger that had started to bubble up inside of him again, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Same reason as you I guess." He shrugged, "The telling makes it real."

And the way she sighed then, giving him eyes full of sympathy before nodding her head just slightly, allowed him to truly breathe for what felt like the first time in 7 years.

"I-I-…." The blonde faltered for a second then soldiered on, "…when you talked about that look Dallas gave you….the one where you knew he was going to take something from you…..I know that look Ally."

"You do?"

"I saw it in my dad's face one day when I was 13. I had just bought the Gibson at a yard sale and he was about to give me the worse beating yet. At the time I thought he just wanted to break me, wanted to take away my love for music or my defiance or something. But then when I was 16 I just couldn't take it anymore-…"

Austin stopped without even telling himself to. It was like every part of his airway dried up all at once. The words crumbled and died in his throat. He was frightened, terrified even, at just the memory alone. And when he spoke, it was with the desire for a cigarette burning his throat.

"It was almost too convenient," he began, his voice barely there and wavering, "They have so many box cutters at the store that they didn't even notice when 2 of them went missing in 3 weeks. With the first one I lost my nerve and threw it away the same day that I stole it. Then a couple of miserable weeks later I stole another one because I was too lifeless inside to lose my nerve again. I closed my bedroom door but I left my bathroom door open so I could see the Gibson propped up next to my bed when I stared into the mirror. It was the first guitar I'd ever bought and the one I'd taught myself how to play on. It represented my love for music and looking at it made me feel…..good. I imagined it'd be waiting for me…afterwards…..And I could play to my heart's content up above the Earth for all of eternity. That's all I was thinking about when I rolled up my sleeves."

A large lump formed in Austin's throat as he relived the most pivotal moment in his entire existence. Ally, removing her hand from his shoulder, reached over to grab his hand instead. Their fingers laced.

"It's weird. Your wrists aren't really a part of the body you think about or even really look at often. When I stared down at mine that afternoon it was like seeing them for the first time. The skin there was paler than the rest of me. And when I bent my hands back and twisted my arms I could see tendons, small and large, go taught. It took me a while to find the artery. I kept feeling for the pulse but couldn't get it. I eventually had to Google it and it said I was probably pressing too hard. I tried to be gentler and even then I sucked at it. After a few minutes I decided to just wing it. I knew the general area and I knew which direction to run the blade and I figured that had to be enough…I _prayed_ that that was enough…..I went back into the bathroom." He heard Ally sniffle beside him, "I remember just holding the tip of the box cutter to my skin and it feeling like ice. I don't know if it was really that cold or if my mind was just playing tricks on me. I was breathing heavy and my heart was hammering. I glanced up at the mirror and saw my Gibson staring back at me. I thought there'd be a…I don't know some kind of calming feeling you know, relief that it'd be over soon but I just felt more fear. It was different than the constant fear I'd lived with for years but it was still fear. I was afraid. Fuuuck I was so fucking afraid Ally. The blade was pressing into my left wrist hard enough for it to dent the skin but not break it. And I knew that I was going to lose my nerve soon. I knew because my hands were shaking like crazy, like I just could not hold them still. Tears….they were the hottest ones I'd ever experienced, rushed down my face. I felt trapped in that bathroom because there was death looming inside of it and pain waiting outside of it. I was trapped. I looked up into the mirror again and my heart stopped. He was there." Austin gasped and shuddered, unexpected tears suddenly falling from his eyes and shining under the dim moonlight, "My dad was standing there. I didn't hear him come in the room but he was right there just outside the bathroom door and blocking my view of the Gibson. And he could SEE what I was doing because I was frozen with the blade still gently at my wrist and tears still streaming down my face. He SAW what I was doing Ally. HE SAW IT. And he just stood there staring at me through the mirror. His face was expressionless. It felt like an eternity." Austin wiped his face, "I couldn't move. I couldn't think or speak or _anything_. It was the loudest, longest silence of my life. And then, without saying anything, Mike turned and walked out. He closed my door and didn't say anything. My knees buckled. My hands lost all feeling and dropped the box cutter. It skittered across the floor as I collapsed against the sink. God, I hadn't even cut my fucking wrists and for a second I thought I was going to die anyway. Somewhere in the middle of it, while I tried to breathe again, I finally realized what that look in Mike's eyes had been that day when I was 13. He did want to take something from me but it wasn't a goddamn guitar or even my defiance. It-…"

He went quiet, wiping his face and biting his lip harder than he meant to.

"Fuck." Austin took a deep breath, "It was my will to live Ally. " he heard a small sob leave the petite brunette but his brown eyes only watched the waves, "All those years he wanted to take my will to live from me. And, for a few minutes, he did."

"Oh my God Austin." Ally choked, "That's terrible."

"A few days later while I was at school, we read that poem. Invictus. And it was all about rising up despite the harshest adversity. It was all about controlling your own fate and overcoming the pain and the darkness. And it resonated with me so much that I started to believe in myself again as corny as it sounds. It took me 5 days to build up enough courage to run away. I had what I thought was plenty of money. It was a Wednesday. I left that morning like I did every morning, but instead of stopping at the bus stop I just kept walking. I wanted to get as far away from Miami as I could with the cheapest bus ticket I could afford. Turns out that was some nowhere city in South Carolina." Austin paused to lick his lips as he thought about Nina and the mahogany table, "I shoplifted from grocery stores and slept wherever I thought I wouldn't get robbed. I practically perfected the dine-and-dash and made money playing guitar on the street. And if I got sick of being somewhere, I just packed up and hitchhiked or bought a bus ticket. It was rough I'm not gonna lie. But there was a freedom in it that I loved. Some days I'd strum the strings for hours and hours and only make 50 cents but the _looks_ people would give me as they walked by…the winks from pretty girls, the approving head nods….they liked my playing. But by the time I sort of migrated up the coast and hit Virginia Beach, I was 17 and I'd gotten even better but I was just barely scraping by. So one day I go to get a 5-finger discount on some candy bars or whatever and as I'm leaving with my pockets stuffed, this girl runs out and stops me. It's Didi and it's probably the meanest I'll ever see her." He laughed suddenly, "And even then she's still nicer than like 90% of the people I've ever met. She kind of gestures to the guitar case strapped to my back and asks me if I'm any good. And already I'm on the defensive because I know she can hear the candy wrappers crinkling in my pocket. So I'm all like " _Who's fucking asking?_ " because I'm an asshole teenager with a thick skin. But she still smiles at me and in a firm voice she says that she won't tell her boss about me stealing if I promise to come by her house later to audition for her brother's band. And that night I go to her place even though I'm insanely paranoid that she'll have the cops there waiting for me or something ridiculous like that. But instead of the police, it's 3 guys around my age named Gavin, Dez, and Jace standing there with their instruments and wondering who the hell I am. I'm nervous as shit because I've never auditioned for anything ever, but the thought of being in a band is so exciting that I take the Gibson in my shaking hands and I glance over at Didi, the smiling older girl who was nice enough not to turn in a candy bar thief. And as I'm playing, they all start to smile….they liked it. I'd spent years practicing on a guitar made of cardboard and rubberbands for fuck's sake. And after that I taught myself on a garage sale Gibson by YouTubing and winging it across states. But it had all payed off because they liked it and they liked me. And when I finished they were so excited, telling me how awesome they thought I was and then they asked me if I could sing. Up until then I hadn't sung any more than the average person but when I bust out some 'Don't Stop Believing', they go fucking nuts and just like that I'm Copper Top's new lead guitarist and lead vocalist."

Here Ally frowned in confusion, "Copper Top?"

He grinned, "That was the band's original name because Dez started it and he has red hair. God that was a stupid fucking name but we all thought it was pretty cool for a while. Then we grew up and changed it to Flesh & Bone not too long after. And things are going so good for the next 2 years that one day I randomly decide to come back to Miami for a visit." He shook his head, "Fucking stupid idea."

"How come?" Ally asked.

"Because I fly down here thinking that, because I'm older and smarter, things'll be different. In my naïve little 19 year old imagination I picture myself telling my parents that Flesh & Bone has won 5 Battle of the Bands competitions and has a massive YouTube following and having them embrace me like the long lost son that I am. I think that if I can just show them how successful I've been with just my guitar and my passion alone that they'll both finally understand the choices I've made, they'll finally understand me. I was a fucking idiot. I get there and nothing's changed. My Dad ignores me until he can't stand listening to me talk about my music anymore and screams that I'm his biggest disappointment, that he's spent his whole life in his sister Diane's shadow, that he's always been his parents' least favorite kid and now he can't even produce a son to take over the family business. And Mom keeps her mouth shut. She always keeps her mouth shut. And it's just me and Dad screaming at each other just like we used to and he cocks his fist back and tries to swing at me just like he used to but I didn't spend a year and half stealing food and sleeping on park benches for that motherfucker to treat me like some weak ass 11 year old again. No fucking way. So I dodge it and I punch him in his face because I'm stronger than I used to be and the rage and the resentment I've had for that piece of shit has just been festering and growing inside of me." Austin focuses on something far away, "And this time it's his turn to stand there shocked and bleeding while I storm out. I hadn't even taken my bag out of the rental car yet Ally. And already I was running away again. Nothing had changed. So I got an earlier flight and the night I got back to Virginia the guys kept asking me how it went. I told them it sucked so they took me to this party and got me drunk out of my mind. That's the same night that got us all banned from CVS."

He chuckled but she didn't. The brunette just sat there quietly, legs crossed, fingers trailing in the sand.

"But that didn't matter because I was back where I belonged, taking shots and laughing my ass off with people who accepted me. I grew with those guys Ally. Didi helped me get a job at a local music store and the manager let me rent a room in a small apartment above it. Gavin helped me polish my guitar skills. It was perfect. Every shitty thing I endured led me to the coast of Virginia where I was meant to be. It was fucking perfect. And yea my past was still the same horrible thing it had always been. The scar on my leg that I got from Mike when I was 12 didn't magically fade away. The painful memories didn't disappear. But it was still okay."

Austin turned his brown eyes to the beautiful girl beside him.

"It's _okay_ to be broken Dawson." He watched her as she stared out over the black ocean, "That's what glue is for."

A smile shattered her pensive expression. She looked down at her bare feet, breathing giggles and shaking her head, "You know glue doesn't make things perfect though right?"

"Well yea but that's the beauty of it isn't it?" he turned slightly, propping himself up on his good hand and folding his left leg down flat against the sand. His right knee stayed up, supporting his right arm. "It puts you back in one piece but you still have all these visible cracks and chips and sometimes people can even see a little bit of it drying. But the ones who aren't complete shitheads know that every chip is a sign of resilience, not weakness. Every crooked line is just part of your story and what's a human being without a story?"

His eyes slid across her jaw line and smoothed over her elegant neck down to the bruise she'd started trying to hide again.

"And someone's gonna come along, perhaps a blonde who plays guitar," he shot her a grin before gently biting his lip and letting his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper of an octave, "and he'll run his hands over you slowly…. He'll feel how perfectly un-smooth you are and he's going to appreciate that beautiful texture of yours."

She looked at him, her gaze abandoning the moonlit sea for a 23 year old who was just as vast and just as indescribable. It was a soulful meeting of brown eyes and so much electricity that blonde hairs stood up on muscled arms and brunette hairs rose on a slender neck.

"When are you leaving for OHA?" she murmured quietly as her breathing grew shallow.

He stared at her mouth as it parted, and swallowed the spontaneous ' _I'm not_ ' that threatened to escape him. Instead, Austin fought through the euphoric haze that was Ally Dawson and thought with his more rational mind.

"9am." He replied, his voice still on the rough side of a whisper.

Then, with her heart pounding in fear, Ally leaned in, moving slowly toward him as her eyes fluttered close. Austin let her. And when they connected with a soft kiss he knew that he would never hate the smell of ocean water again. Not when he could inhale that scent and have his brain instantly rush back to _her_ and the first time she really kissed him.

She pulled away gently but kept herself close, the tips of their noses nearly touching.

"Will you come see me before you leave?" she whispered.

And he didn't even have the proper words to express how _not_ seeing her before he left wasn't even a physical possibility. So Austin simply nodded with a teasing smirk.

"You're fucking needy madam Ally. You know that?"

She smiled. Then she grinned and pressed her forehead against his for a brief but supremely intimate moment. He kissed her again, deeper this time. And when she reached up to rest her hand over his heart, Austin grasped it and held it there.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Okay so I'm sure yall could give zero fucks about any bullshit excuses I might even attempt to make right now and I get that. It's been MONTHS since my last update and you, with all your kind reviews and loyal reading, don't deserve to be abandoned like that. All I can say is that I wrote half of this chapter and then had to put all my focus in other non-story, life-related things for so long that I've had writer's block ever since. None of the second half is coming out how I want it. Yall said before that it was okay if it took me a while to update as long as the quality remained but I know this is definitely not the kind of wait you had in mind and for that I'm sorry. I've decided to break the last chapter up into 2 parts because I'm happy with the first and I want to atleast give you SOMETHING. I don't know if it makes up for anything but in the past I've always waited until I was completely done writing something before posting it and, if I do post anymore stories, that's what I'll be doing in the future just to avoid any unexpected hiatuses. To** ArtistRenegade21 **believe it or not I actually imagined the same thing about Austin's pancake tattoo being made to look like dripping syrup at first but then I thought since he was drunk off his ass he probably wasn't being all that still and the tattoo artist decided to go with something a little simpler for quality's sake. To** jacksonchase-dun **ummmm what the fuck literal tears? Do you know that you just made my whole year? Thank you so much. To** Rainbow **you are always so astute and I love it. I also felt like the whole Mimi ignoring the beating thing was not very realistic. I was trying to spin it in a different way but then nothing was coming out right and I was worried I was taking too long to update so I just went with it. But you're absolutely right. I tried to kind of address it in this chapter but it might end up being something I'm going to have to always be a little disappointed about. But on a happier note I ADORE that you review every chapter and I hope the long wait won't deter you from continuing to do so. The fact that you know people who have been in Austin and Ally's tragic situations and feel that I am doing the emotions justice has made me so happy and kept me fighting through the writer's block. Also I'm ecstatic you're listening to "From Eden" on repeat and we're like bff's now no question. To** Hope **I'm not sure if I'll write another story but if an idea strikes me I just might. I never thought about doing a Raura just because they're actual real people and I feel super weird about it but, hey, if the inspiration strikes who knows what could happen. To** Louder4Life **"beautiful but sad and amazing" is already one of my favorite things. To** Luckystarz910 **so far Ally has been more important to Austin than the band. But let's not forget which of his infatuations came first. *eyebrow wiggle*. To** kristenxoxo81 **HERE YOU GO LADY!**

 **Alright sorry for making this author's note as long as a fucking chapter. I've included a few lyrics to another Hozier song called "Work Song" which happens to be my all time favorite. It's definitely worth listening to on repeat for the rest of your life. As always I love your honest feedback, good or bad.**

" _ **I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door." (Part 1)**_

Austin was tough. He was a self-reliant 23 year old unafraid to go from nice guy to fucking asshole if you looked at him too long. His sun-tanned skin was thick and tattooed, roughened from years of taking punches and raising himself. Since the age of 11 he'd been too busy surviving to think about trivial things like love or girlfriends. His first kiss was at 16 and he relinquished his virginity just minutes after that. Both of these milestones, conquered years before even getting his first girlfriend. And no relationship seemed to last longer than a few months once the lucky lady discovered that his heart wasn't truly in it. Love was soft. Love didn't protect him from his father's fury and it certainly didn't keep him alive as he hitchhiked across the Carolinas. Sure he was completely infatuated with music and he treated his guitar like a soul mate, but that was the extent of his experience with matters of the heart. Austin Moon had never really considered love an option or even a priority before and he really wasn't about to then. All he knew was that he liked this brunette and he wanted this brunette. He'd had enough shitty moments in his life to know that you should never overthink the good ones. And the time he spent walking hand in hand up the beach with Ally, who was undoubtedly unlike any other, with their feet submerged in cold ocean water, their skin bathed in moonlight, and their lips still numb with intensely pleasurable kisses, was more amazing than expected. Even with his imminent departure looming just hours away, and even when she looked up at him with the 'you poor thing' eyes and softly said " _I can't believe Mimi just let your dad treat you like that_ ", it was still an awesome moment because as she spoke she leaned gently into him and her little toe brushed his foot in the mud. Austin licked his lips and gathered his thoughts as best as he could.

"I've been angry with my mom for a long time." He began, "I mean shit I'm still pissed at her. But she…I mean-...okay so the time I spent wandering up the east coast, I saw a lot of fucked up shit Ally. I was a homeless runaway without a pot to piss in. I wasn't exactly hanging out with the rich kids you know what I mean? I slummed the gutters from South Carolina to Virginia and I encountered people in every kind of dysfunctional relationship, every kind of shitty situation you can imagine."

The ice had begun to melt in the bag strapped to his right hand and freezing droplets trailed down the blonde's fingers, soaking into the sneakers that dangled in his grasp. He continued.

"I've never been in love but-"

"Wow really? Never?" she kicked her foot up gently, sending a mild spray to wet their shins.

He just shrugged dismissively, "Nah I'm too fucked up for that shit I think."

She didn't respond but simply squeezed his hand. And somehow that spoke volumes.

"But um I've seen other people in love or even people in like that just kind of sacrifice themselves to the relationship. They settle for someone because they don't think they can find better or they think that all this physical and verbal abuse is just part of what a relationship is all about because that's what they've always known. I've met people who have become so used to being treated like shit that they truly believe they're completely helpless in the situation."

He lapsed into another involuntary silence as the bleakest memories clouded his conscious mind. A larger wave rolled in, nearly cresting Ally's kneecaps and wetting Austin mid-shin. He stared down because watching the water swirl in the wake of their bare legs somehow made his next sentence easier to say.

"When I was about to kill myself…"

He spoke carefully as those specific words left him for the very first time. In the past it was always that he tried to slit his wrists or that he tried to end it all. Never 'kill myself', though that was really what it all boiled down to. There was something about all the intangible elements surrounding him, the constant motion of the sea and the sweet understanding from Miss Ally Dawson, somehow all of that took the damning words from him and made them light enough to fly away. It felt incredible. Maybe even better than the white powder frequently snowing through his lungs.

"…when I tried to kill myself…" he began again, tasting the words and feeling Ally's grip tighten around his hand, "I never knew that helplessness could feel so…..so…..…." Austin paused then rapidly switched gears, "Okay say Flesh & Bone was in a Battle of the Bands contest or something and we were up against Pink Floyd, AC/DC, and…shit I don't know Led Zeppelin, you know some classic rock LEGENDS, then I'd say that we were helpless, that we didn't have a shot in hell and there was nothing we could do to change that, no matter how awesome our set was. And for the first 12 years of my life I'd always thought that that was what helplessness was, no chance, no point in trying, having absolutely no ability within yourself to change things for the better, and it's ALL of that sure but when I got older and things got bad I realized that it's also so much more…more.…it's…..not 'deeper'….but it is deeper…"

"Profound?" The musical brunette offered in a voice small with terrified understanding.

"Profound." He repeated, glancing over and meeting eyes that held a dying flame, "It can be so crazy fucking profound that it's soul crushing. I know it is because I felt it happen. I felt my lights go out inside. I used to think helplessness was just a speedbump or a strait-jacket but it's not. It's a pit. Sometimes it's shallow and you lose the Battle of the Bands but sometimes it's miles deep-"

"Fathoms deep." She murmured sadly.

"Fucking _fathoms_ deep." Austin agreed, sighing incredulously, "Sometimes it's nearly bottomless and then it stops being about just winning or losing. It's about accepting that nothing will ever change. It's about giving up Ally. You give up on everything, _everything_. That one thing that has always been precious to you, you give up on it because even that's not _enough_ anymore. Not anymore, because just cherishing the thing doesn't make life any less miserable."

Austin stopped walking. Ally did the same. They stood there in the murky tide, his eyes glued again to the indistinguishable horizon, hers closed tight.

"It's about giving up completely. Ally," his voice was so very soft, just barely overcoming the sound of rushing water, "It's about shutting your eyes and pretending you're somewhere else until he finishes. It's about running away as soon as you can, barefoot because your sandals came off in the struggle. It's about holding your breath until you pass out in the restaurant bathroom and never telling anyone that you touched the very rock bottom of that pit one night."

Her grip was growing impossibly tight on his hand and he wondered if she could possibly pop her stitches. But then she spoke in a voice that was steady and even softer than his had been.

"It's about holding the blade to your wrist even though you can't find a pulse." she said because she always seemed to understand him so perfectly, "It's about staring at your guitar, the thing you love, in the mirror's reflection…and pressing the razor even harder."

He stared at her with their hands still entwined and her eyes still closed, "Sometimes you're forced into that pit by an asshole named Dallas and sometimes you're slowly dragged down into it by some asshole named Mike. I think that's what happened to Mimi. To me AND Mimi actually, but it happened to her before I was even born. And it happened to her a lot slower because she was falling in love with him at the same time. She never stood up to him about anything and after years of being his fucking doormat even her own son wasn't precious enough. She felt helpless, she truly _believed_ she was helpless."

Ally shook her head slowly as her eyes opened, "I just-…I can't imagine you'll ever need your mother more than you did then. And she _abandoned_ you."

He nodded, "Yeah but-"

"I mean could you EVER forgive her for something like that?"

And the words 'No. Never.' immediately came to his mind because he had been certain from the age of 13 that he could never, WOULD never pardon his mom's negligence. But that was before Austin had grieved over the very man who'd made his life a living hell, before he realized that the love for a parent is something hardwired and nearly untouchable. So, instead of saying never, the blonde looked off in thought for a moment, then came back to her piercing brown eyes.

"Maybe." He admitted a little unsurely.

And Ally, always the understanding one, didn't question him about it. Weary from the backbreaking weight of their conversation, she offered him a smile instead that was tiny in size but bursting with sunshine.

"Well for the record I'm actually kind of glad you didn't find your pulse that day. I'm glad you didn't go through with it."

And this time the deep magenta blush rushing to his cheeks penetrated the darkness but he was far too distracted by his irregular heartbeat to turn away in time. She grinned up at him.

"You're blushing."

"Shut up Dawson."

And, thoroughly embarrassed, Austin did the first thing he could think of, picking Ally up and slinging her over his shoulder as she squealed in fear and surprise.

"AUSTIN!"

"You brought this on yourself." He teased and resumed sloshing through the surf.

"Oh my God this is so embarrassing. Put me down!"

"No."

"Austin!"

"Ally!"

"Uuuggh!" she wriggled vigorously but to no avail, "UUGGH! I want you to put me down now!"

He turned and started to make his way up the sand, "Tough shit."

"AUSTIN!"

The blonde simply laughed in response. Flexing his right arm, his grip tightened around the backs of her thighs. Cold water dripped from the makeshift ice pack still tied to his hand and left dark grey polka-dots on her leggings.

"Austin I'm serious put me down."

"Relax Dawson," He wavered slightly, struggling to maintain balance on the soft sand and keep a frustrated Ally up in the air, "Don't madams like being carried everywh-"

"FUCKING PUT ME DOWN!"

"Holy shit." he murmured as the brunette's sudden screaming nearly scared him half to death. Austin clumsily leaned over and lowered her to the sandy ground, dropping one of his sneakers in the process.

"Take it easy Ally I was just screwing aroun- OW WHAT THE FUCK!?"

The blonde just barely had time to bend down and grab his shoe when a floral Birkenstock connected with the side of his head, crushing his ear and filling it with a brief but resounding ring.

"Next time when I tell you to put me down!" She swung both of her sandals at him, hitting his arms and hands as he tried to shield himself, "You PUT ME DOWN!"

"AH shit! Fuck Ally stop! STOP what the fuck is your problem!"

She lowered her shoes and looked him right in the eyes, hers positively ablaze with all the fury and the strength she wished she'd had months ago.

"YOU DON'T GET TO DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO ME!" She shouted, her voice already growing impossibly ragged and hoarse. A lump lodged itself in her throat but she screamed past it because she knew if she stopped that tears would rush from her eyes forever, "When I tell you to do something and it concerns MY body then you do it!"

"Ally calm your fucking tits alright!" Austin's brow furrowed, "I wasn't even doing anything!"

"Shut the fuck up!" She shouted with whatever voice she had left, "Fuck you! I'm in control of what happens to me okay! Me! Not you!"

"Okay fine whatever you're in control just don't fucking hit me anymore!" he conceded in sheer annoyance.

And again her mood changed. He watched as something snuffed out the flames in her pupils. It was as if she was suddenly remembering something, or like she was just returning from a trip she didn't intend to take. Ally came rapidly back to the reality of dark water and cool sand, her sad gaze surveying Austin like it was the very first time. Then she squeezed her eyes shut tight, sighing in what was unmistakably defeat.

"Just please take me home Austin."

There was silence between them that not even a 24 hour classic rock radio station could penetrate. It was no longer the oddly comfortable quiet that they'd cultivated in one magical weekend. Things were awkward. Discomfort pushed against every corner of Roxy's interior because that old Honda had become more than just a car for them. Roxanne had brought Austin to Miami where Ally was waiting, and slowly imploding, in her attic. And it was in Roxanne where Austin introduced the weary brunette to a world of snow and euphoria. Sure Roxy T. Honda didn't look like much on the outside, but inside she was important enough for it to be palpable as they did 60 mph in a 45. Ally felt it. Austin felt it. And he hated that even in such a significant space, they were no longer comfortable with one another.

Austin was annoyed. He had no real right to be, he didn't WANT to be, but he was just the same. Ally needed someone who would be patient with her and the blonde understood that better than anybody, really he did. He'd already afforded her more patience than his body was even physically capable of possessing, but being flung back and forth between her good side and her bad side for days had worn it completely thin. Austin snuck a quick glance at Ally and was only met with a ponytail of tired curls. She stared out of the window.

"Are you pissed at me or something?" His fingers grasped the volume knob and twisted until "Hotel California" faded into nothing. Another brief peek and he got an eyeful of her brown and blonde hair again.

"No." she said in a voice that was flat and empty and practically screaming yes.

"You sure? Because it kinda seems like you are."

"I…just want to be alone."

He rolled his eyes because _seriously?_

"Well have no fear your heiness, we're almost at your house so you only have to tolerate my presence for 5 more minutes."

And when his fingers cranked the knob back in the other direction, Jimi Hendrix came blasting out with riffs and chord changes so fast and loud that they killed any chance of further conversation. It was a childish thing to do and he knew it but that knowledge did nothing to loosen his 2 handed grip on the wheel. He could handle a little yelling, a little anger on her part. Hell, he thought it was kinda hot actually. But he couldn't handle being shoved back at arm's length after she'd kissed him tenderly and let him find something like home in her eyes. He knew that Ally was so mentally fragile that she shattered multiple times in a day. He also knew that he was being an asshole at the moment. But Austin was by no means the picture of well-adjusted, emotionally stable perfection himself. And every soft press of Ally Dawson's lips had drug him further and further into her depths. He couldn't tolerate angry Ally as much because he'd experienced the fucking amazing way normal, sweet Ally felt.

He craved the magic they'd had at the beach not 10 minutes ago but he was also stubborn. So when Roxy pulled to a slightly squeaky stop in front of the Dawson residence, the only person speaking was Ozzy Osbourne, leading the rest of Black Sabbath into complete Paranoia. He had barely put the car in park before Ally was pulling the lock up and swinging her door open. That was it. No goodnight, no see you later, nothing to acknowledge the way they'd grown so much closer in the span of 2 hours. Austin stared after her as she ascended the driveway, ponytail swinging. Her leggings were still rolled up to her knees and each determined and desperate step sent dried sand crumbling from her calves to her Birkenstocks. She passed the silver Accord and the red VW Beetle but hesitated when she got to the front door, fingers grasping the knob but not moving. He waited, watching intently from Roxy's front seat. Ally sighed again, he could tell by the way her shoulders rose then fell. And as they dipped back down, the 20 year old opened the door and disappeared inside. The gold mail slot glinted copper in the streetlight as she barred herself against the outside world.

"Whatever Dawson." Austin mumbled to the rock and roll still blaring around him. He clenched his jaw and practically threw Roxanne in drive, attempting to ignore the way it all kind of stung. His back molars ground together as he hit a quick u-turn and cruised back to the 1 story home of his childhood. Christ that girl was going to give him a headache.

When he pulled into the driveway Austin was surprised to see that the trash can had been wheeled down to the curb and the kitchen light was on. He cut Roxy off but not before checking the gas. She was at about a quarter of a tank and he briefly wondered if he could at least make it over the Georgia border where fuel was much cheaper.

Austin climbed out of his car with the infamous magazine curled in his hand. Things hadn't exactly gone the way he wanted that night, at least not at the end anyway. It made him feel better to blame Rihanna and those 'fuck me' eyes of hers instead of his own idiotic behavior. Besides that, he was supremely uncomfortable with the thought of driving 9 hours with a coke-dusted Rolling Stone sitting in his glove compartment. The island-born singer gave him one last sultry look before he tossed her in the trash can along with the almost fully melted bag of ice that had kept his right hand numb.

For a moment as he opened the front door he thought that maybe the porch light was broken and illuminating the kitchen was Mimi's way of 'leaving the light on for him' before she went to bed. But he quickly abandoned that idea at the sound of a spoon clinking in a porcelain mug.

His mom was sitting at the kitchen table in the middle of a careful sip from her cup when Austin appeared in the entranceway. Her eyes rose slowly to meet him.

"Surprised to see you up this late." he casually remarked on his way to the fridge.

"I couldn't sleep anymore."

He grabbed one of Mike's last 2 cans of PBR and cracked it open. She watched him lean against the counter and take a big gulp.

"Where've you been?" the exhausted woman asked, cradling her chin in her hand.

He shrugged, "I couldn't sleep either. Went for a drive."

She paused, her eyes drifting down to the floor, her entire countenance already becoming submissive in preparation for her next question. Austin waited for it.

"Were you out….buying drugs?" she practically buried her gaze in the tea that steamed before her.

The beer can froze halfway to his lips and he laughed.

"Uh no Mimi I actually have plenty of drugs already so I don't need to buy any more right now."

He took another much needed sip and waited for his mom to fuss at him but she didn't. She was quiet as her hand migrated from chin to forehead and her eyes closed. As a rebellious youth, he'd pushed Mimi to that very same position countless times. And seeing her there just then, practically radiating exasperation like sunrays, made him feel like an unwanted little burden again. Austin hated that. He really wasn't in the mood for wherever their little exchange was going. So with another refreshing swig of beer, he began to make his way out of the kitchen but stopped at the threshold.

"Hey um can I borrow a couple bucks for gas? It's crazy expensive down here and I don't think I have enough to make it to Geor-."

"I don't have any cash Austin."

"Mimi you _always_ have cash." He countered with a chuckle. And that was true. When the rest of the world had moved on to credit cards and debit cards, she kept a good old-fashioned death grip on her dollar bills and checkbooks.

"Yeah well..." she was still not looking at him and her hand had begun to massage her temple firmly, "The store hasn't been doing so great lately and-"

" _The store hasn't been doing so great lately_?" he frowned in confusion, letting his eyes survey the kitchen before swinging his arm out in a wide gesture, "All these new stainless steel appliances and fresh paintjobs and you're telling me the store isn't doing so great?"

She was quiet.

"I saw the boxes for the microwave and coffee maker in the trash just 5 minutes ago for fuck's sake."

"Austin I'm not going to give you money to spend on drugs!" she finally looked him in the eye, her face full of concern, "I am your mother and-"

"I'm not buying fucking drugs alright!" he was losing his temper. Ally's wrath was one he could oddly handle silently but having his own mother make him out to be some kind of junkie stoked the already untamed flames inside of him. He couldn't help but to erupt.

"I came here, I came to Mike's funeral for YOU mom!" he pointed at her though he wasn't really sure how truthful that was anymore, "I missed out on some of the most important shows of my life to come to this fucking city that I hate for a guy that I don't even fucking like! I did that for YOU! Because you cried on the phone and I'm such a pussy that I couldn't say no." Here Austin turned away, attempting to collect himself in the span of one rough tousling of his own hair. It didn't work because almost immediately he was pressing the palm of his free hand to the edge of the table and staring Mimi down, "The people at the music festival dock your pay if you don't show up did you know that? I've lost thousands of dollars just being here. All I'm asking for is 30 bucks for some gas and you sit here in this brand new kitchen like you can't spare a dime. You OWE me this Mimi-"

"I don't owe you anything Austin." She spoke firmly as her own anger momentarily broke through her timidity, "YOU'RE the one who decided you didn't need your parents anymore."

"Can you fucking blame me!?" he threw his arms out in disbelief, "Can you honestly FUCKING blame me?! I had a dad who beat the shit out of me and a mom who didn't give a damn about it!"

"That is not true!"

" **LIKE HELL IT'S NOT TRUE!** " Austin roared, hurling the PBR can in the first direction his arm chose. It smacked against the fridge with frightening speed, splattering beer against the side and puddling quickly on the floor. "HOW THE FUCK DO YOU EVEN LIVE WITH YOURSELF HUH!? So I'm a fucking liar is that it!?"

She was screaming back at him but he yelled over every piece of bullshit flying out of her mouth.

"FACE IT MIMI YOU WERE AND STILL ARE A SHITTY MOM! YOU HAD ONE FUCKING JOB! PROTECT YOUR FUCKING SON AND YOU IDN'T EVEN TRY!"

"STOP IT AUSTIN!"

"You know what fuck it! I haven't needed shit from you for 12 years and NOW YOU CAN'T EVEN SPARE YOUR SON 30 FUCKING DOLLARS! 30 fucking dollars!?" He sneered, looking at her with absolute disgust, "Like you're so goddamn broke. Isn't Mike's life insurance policy about to kick in-"

"YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Mimi was rapidly on her feet, the chair scraping loudly against the linoleum and ultimately tipping backwards with a clatter. She was no longer the meek woman trying feebly to defend herself, but an enraged and grieving widow trying to protect her late husband. "SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I HATE the way you speak about him I _HATE_ IT!" her fist slammed the table and it shuddered, "You WILL show your father some respect we just buried him today for Christ's sake what is wrong with you!?"

The guitarist didn't even flinch though. Instead he matched Mimi's icy blue stare, piercing her with brown eyes that had unexpectedly begun to sting with years of unshed tears. Austin stood there, unmoving, looking as deeply into his mother's soul as he possibly could, searching for something that he'd been searching more than a decade for. And when, once again, he didn't find it, the broken blonde had to look away because he'd stupidly gotten his hopes up for just a few seconds. He took a deep breath as his eyes studied the formica table top. It blurred. His brow was so tightly knit that a headache began to blossom in the very center of his forehead. Austin shoved his hands in his pockets and released a bark of heartbreaking laughter.

"Well it's good to see that you actually _are_ capable of defending someone." And he hated, _hated_ , the way his voice came out dripping with the very sorrow he was trying so hard to smother.

"Austin Monica Moon you get back here!" Mimi shouted as her son walked out of the kitchen. But she had begun to cry and her words lost all of their gusto.

"Nevermind about the gas money." he mumbled over his shoulder.

"Austin!" she screamed with the desperation of a dying woman.

He slammed his bedroom door close in response and was immediately filled with self-disgust. One weekend in Miami and he was already reduced to the sniveling child he'd once been. There he was, pressing his forehead to the wood of his bedroom door, praying for relief as his body trembled with the overwhelming need to get away. Austin was 12 years old all over again and he wanted to just rip his skin off in ragged shreds. He couldn't even look at himself in the mirror as he undressed in the bathroom. Stepping in the dry tub, a sob suddenly gripped his ribcage and attempted to free itself. In the past he would always try to wait until he got in the shower to cry because it was so much easier to pretend that he wasn't. But Austin refused to succumb to such a sensation. He was too strong for that shit. His back molars ground tightly together as he rode out the lump growing large and painful in his throat. Naked and nearly falling apart, Austin turned the handle to its hottest setting. The water came shooting out in an icy spray and he bit his bottom lip hard enough to almost draw blood.

God, he was so tired of being cold.

He waited for the heat and when it finally came, his mind immediately drifted to Ally because she warmed something in him that the hot shower still couldn't reach. He stood like a statue under steaming rivulets and recalled the life-changing hours spent kicking up sand and sea with a mysterious brunette. They'd broken boundaries out there at the edge of the ocean and then he'd tried to be funny and tarnished it all. Austin scrubbed himself clean, attempting to remove the childish feelings that still clung and wash away his sour regrets. Still, even as he stepped out of the shower and toweled off, the thought of completely fucking things up with Ally forever followed. The problem was that his tasks became too monotonous. Pulling on a pair of briefs then lazily packing up all of his shit didn't require any mental power on Austin's part. Free to do as it pleased, his brain explored Alison Dawson as if she was a newly discovered territory.

He shoved his earbuds in and cranked up the volume on his iPhone, trying to drown out thoughts of _her_ with raw rock and roll. She was mad at him, he'd dealt with enough females in his life to understand that. And the flatness in her voice, as if she was truly finished with him…

The blonde stuffed Gavin's rumpled suit into his duffle bag and tried to actively steer his mind to something, ANYTHING, else. He'd already spent so much time putting Ally first that it was a miracle his bandmates hadn't kicked him out of the group completely. He needed to focus on music, on performing. The few shows that Austin would be present for would have to be flawlessly badass to make up for Tucker's mediocre job so far. He quickly ran through Flesh & Bone's established set list in his head while zipping up his suitcase and setting alarms on his cell for 8:15, 8:20, and 8:30 AM. Then, when the first few notes of Hozier's "Work Song" played through his earbuds, Austin sat on the edge of his bed and stared down at his hands. After playing Flesh & Bone's entire music history earlier in the day, this deep aching had settled into his knuckles. It was a familiar pain that followed whenever he strummed for a prolonged period of time. And though he'd experienced it countless times before, there was always a fraction of a moment in which Austin would gently flex his fingers and seriously worry that they would never stop hurting. It only ever lasted for a few seconds, the worrying, but each and every time it was like an ice cold bolt of lightning striking his spine, as if he truly believed the agony would be endless. But then he'd just continue flexing his fingers, wincing as the pain eased slower than drying paint. As he sat there in his boxers, staring at his hands, he felt no discomfort. The ache had subsided just like it always did. He longed for its return though because they really _should_ have been hurting. They should have been loosely gripping a steering wheel and bathed in southern sunlight for 9 hours straight as he drove to the musical opportunity of a lifetime. They should have been clutching a guitar and playing the shit out of it until he and his friends stood on stage awash in the respect of their fellow rock and rollers. His hands curled softly into fists, then opened. It was 2:36 AM. If everything went according to plan, by that time the next day, he'd be wasted out of his mind with the guys, celebrating their first OHA show as the real Flesh  & Bone. Finally he'd be back where he should've always been, making music, creating music, submerging himself in MUSIC.

 _When my time comes around…Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth…No grave can hold my body down…I'll crawl home to her…_

Hozier crooned in his ear as Austin shuffled to the other side of the room and flipped off the lights. He navigated the darkness slowly, phone in hand, music still playing. He crawled under the covers and laid flat and straight like a corpse.

 _I was burnin up a fever…I didn't care much how long I lived…But I swear I thought I dreamed her…She never asked me once about the wrong I did…_

Austin knew it was time to leave. For a little while Ally had made Miami bearable, she'd made the sky somehow bluer. And then he'd acted like an asshole and ruined it. He'd stayed too long. Nothing good could come from this place that had already brought him so much misery. It was time to go. He stared up at the smooth, uninterrupted blackness and waited for Hozier to finish. Then, still reeling somewhat from the most emotional Saturday he'd ever experienced, the blonde Virginian plugged his charger into his phone, set his earbuds aside, and waited patiently as sleep eluded his racing mind for another 2 hours. It was nearly 4:30 before he stumbled clumsily into a deep slumber.

He was one of the few people in the world who actually enjoyed waking up to blinding sunlight so he'd left the curtains drawn. Maybe it was because he would be heading to OHA soon or maybe it was his Floridian nature, but once that famously bright subtropical sunshine came crashing through his window and pouring over his face it didn't matter that Austin had only gotten about 4 hours of sleep. He awoke exactly 5 minutes before his first alarm was set to go off with something like happiness blooming in his chest. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and disabled the wake up calls. Then, maybe just to truly assure himself that he was leaving Miami, he sent a text in the band's group message:

' _Hitting the road in a few'_

He moved with his body on autopilot again: popping a few extra-strength Tylenol for his aching mouth, brushing his teeth, taking a piss, and getting dressed. His mind wandered once more. First trying to remember which gas station in the city was usually cheapest, then recalling the name of the hotel that the festival folks had put them all up in. He went through a quick little mental checklist to make sure he hadn't forgotten to pack anything. And when all of that responsible adult shit was dealt with, his brain, all young and hungry for something soft, made a beeline for Ally. With the sunrise, the annoyance he'd felt last night had waned into a ghost of a thing. It was stupid of him to be upset. Of course the girl who was sexually assaulted out of fucking nowhere wasn't a fan of guys who didn't take no for an answer. What right did he have to deny her her fury? Her need to guard what little of herself was still left?

In three days they had cultivated something between them that was special and intense. And now it seemed it was being left to wither away. Drawing close and kissing passionately only to have it all end in wordless tension.

Austin sent an individual text to Dez requesting confirmation on the hotel details before slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder. It all felt so very familiar as he grasped the door knob. Childhood memories, mostly painful, surrounded him on all sides, tainted his Eric Clapton posters and his Zaliens bedsheets. Stepping out into the hallway for what he mentally vowed would be the absolute last time, Austin noticed that Mimi's door was still closed. Gratitude and relief flooded him instantly. The entire weekend had been, predictably, disastrous. And the relationship between him and his mother was currently murkier than it had ever been. She was still sickeningly loyal to Mike and he was still extraordinarily bitter. Walking down the hall, he rolled his suitcase as slowly and as quietly as he could on the wooden flooring. It was easier to just let her sleep, to just leave without warning like he did all those years ago. He contemplated stopping in the kitchen and heating up another chunk of casserole for breakfast, but decided against it. The ultimate goal at the moment was to avoid Mimi and her inevitably tearful goodbye. He was leaving his childhood home yet again. But this time Ally's words came to him just as he carefully opened the front door. She'd asked him if he could ever forgive his mom. Austin recalled saying 'Maybe'. He remembered sincerely thinking about it, considering the unconditional love he held for that woman and how it persisted even through all the disdain. Yes he'd said maybe. But that didn't stop Austin from crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him because 'maybe' would not be that day.

The weather was a little cool that early morning, but already bright. Roxanne sat there waiting for him, ready to take him where he needed to be. He popped the trunk, tossing his bags inside just as his phone chimed with a new text. It was Dez with the hotel address and room number. Austin typed it into his cell's GPS before climbing into the driver's seat. And as he settled in, plugging up the aux cord and putting on his black shades, Austin felt a sudden nervous tingle ghost lightly through his viscera because Atlanta, Georgia would be his final destination, but it wouldn't be his first.

It was like deja-vu all over again as he drove down that residential street. Except this time, his eyes didn't need to search for a specific red because he knew exactly where it was. He cruised to a smooth stop at the curb, Roxy taking the same spot she had just hours ago. The Dawson's silver Honda Accord was gone but the Beetle, thank God, was there. And suddenly, too his chagrin, so were the butterflies in his stomach. Austin checked the time. 9:04. He honked the horn twice, hoping something would happen.

He could hardly believe the fluttering of his heart as, seconds later, the white curtain hanging over that cute little round attic window pulled up just slightly then quickly fell back into place. She'd seen him. And Austin dreaded the possibility of her remaining inside despite that. He stayed in the car, Roxy idling around him like she always did, ready to make a run for it whenever he was. But then that navy blue door opened and those gold fixings glinted and he had to work hard not to scramble from the front seat in a fit of desperation. He put some tension in his limbs to slow them down, opening the door as casually as he could and emerging with what he hoped was an air of nonchalance. But even closing Roxy's door ended in a nervous accidental slam because Ally Dawson was coming down the driveway.

She was wearing glasses. That was the first thing he noticed. They were big, almost hipster-sized, with tortoise-shell frames. She was in a pair of red sweatpants, a white crop top, and a light grey cardigan. His eyes trailed down from her large spectacles to her pink lips then descended further. There on her shirt was a picture of Edgar Allan Poe and the words "Just a Poe boy from a Poe family". He scanned over Ally's smooth stomach and the sight of her very visible bellybutton unsettled him in a good way. Past the red sweats and down to her minty green toenails, he recognized the same floral Birkenstocks fitting snuggly on her feet. He took it all in as he rounded the front of his car and tried to control the anxiety within him. They approached each other carefully, his black Converses scraping the pavement and his fingers scraping his scalp, tugging his blonde hair.

She chewed her bottom lip gently, only becoming aware of her hammering heartbeat as they finally stopped and stood in front of one another. There was a weighted silence just waiting to be filled. Her hair was up in a messy bun and he could see the butt of a pen sticking out of it. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept at all but her beauty was still so powerful. He smiled because he couldn't really help it. She was nerdy and pretty and he liked that.

"Good morning Dawson." He said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets and regarding her through his shades. She realized then that his smile was completely contagious.

"Actually," she tilted her head to the side, "it's ' _madam_ Ally'."

His eyebrows shot up in amusement, "Well pardon the fuck out of me your heiness."

She giggled. Then they were quiet, the comfortable kind of quiet.

"I didn't think you'd come." Ally finally admitted.

"Yeah well I know how needy you are."

"Oh shut up."

"I wanted to apologize too." He said with a touch more seriousness. But she just shook her head.

"Please don't do that."

"No I mean it. Look I know you were pissed at me and you had every right to be I was being an asshole."

"I wasn't mad at you I just…" she pressed a hand to her forehead and looked away, her gaze scanning the empty neighborhood, "I was mad at Dallas."

He didn't reply but simply stared at her through black shades.

"He's ruined so many things for me." She looked everywhere but at him, "Even simple things. He's _ruined_ them, you know?"

Austin nodded, understanding fully, "I get it."

"Sooo how many 'sorries' am I up to now?" her mischieveous gaze rose to meet his again, "A hundred? Two hundred?"

He shrugged, "Too many to count I think."

She pulled her lips in, nodding in reluctant acceptance, "Seems about right."

They stood there smiling at each other for a moment without any desire to look away.

"So how you holding up?" Austin asked, "You look like shit."

She countered his teasing grin with narrowed eyes.

"Gee thanks." Ally deadpanned as Austin smoothly grasped her hand and kissed the back of it. "I've been up all night writing songs actually."

He buried his right hand back in its pocket and nodded in approval.

"Really? And with a bum hand? Impressive."

"My lyrics look like they were written by a 4th grader but hey, as long as they're legible right?"

"That's literally 90% of what songwriting is all about." He agreed cheekily.

They chuckled.

"Um so what about you how are you feeling?" she asked, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

"Why? Do I look like shit?"

"Very much so yeah."

"You're fucking hilarious Dawson. My hand's ok but my mouth hurt like hell this morning. I took a couple of Tylenol."

"Okay good."

And then they lapsed into another silence as Ally discretely observed him and contemplated all the things she wanted to say. He looked every bit the young rockstar in slim fit, mustard colored jeans ripped open at both knees and some scuffed black Converses. His black t-shirt, with the "Highway to Hell" album cover stretched across it, was that of a true AC/DC junkie. Her brown eyes danced across the image, appreciating frontman Brian Johnson's devil horns and snarling lip. In Miami's chilly early hours, Austin had thrown on a faded denim jacket and housed both of his cold hands in the pockets. He looked at her from behind black Ray bans that gave him an air of 'I don't give a shit sophistication' while his bright blonde hair lay perfectly disheveled. Ally easily imagined him onstage in the same outfit, standing firmly with the keyboardist on his left and the bassist on his right and a Gibson guitar at his waist. She liked the mental image. She adored it actually, and couldn't hide her tiny smile as she tucked it away for later.

"So you're headed to OHA now?"

He nodded, "Uh yeah we have a show tonight around 9."

A thought occurred to her. It was absolutely absurd and she knew that but….Ally wanted him to stay and she wanted it badly. She couldn't understand why her heart was so eager to embrace Austin, especially when it was still in so many jagged pieces. Maybe because he was the only person who'd seen her deepest, bloodiest wounds and, instead of reeling in disgust, he'd shown Ally his own and told her it was okay. But they'd only known each other three days. There was no way to express her desire to him without sounding insane.

So she didn't, not really.

"This has been a very…interesting weekend to say the least." She smiled though she wanted to replace 'interesting' with so many other words. With words that captured the gash in her right hand and the appreciation in her heart and the tears she hadn't yet shed. But, once again, she refrained.

"Thank you." She said, as if that came even close to being enough.

Austin's eyebrows pulled together as he shrugged, "For what?"

She rolled her eyes playfully, "Just say you're welcome."

But Austin remained silent and carefully lifted his shades to the top of his head instead.

He hesitated a moment before reaching up to gently pull the MUNY pen from her hair. It was like taking the pin out of a grenade as big messy ombre curls exploded from their perch and fell around her face. She let him take her wrist in his other hand, trembling as he slowly pushed up the sleeve of her cardigan.

"What're you doing?" she laughed breathlessly and without really meaning to. It was a nervous tick because the tingles in her skin HAD to go _somewhere_.

"Giving you something to temporarily remember me by." He replied, already pressing the pen tip to her creamy skin.

"Ink poisoning?" another awkward and unintentional laugh.

His eyes rose beneath their blonde lashes to meet hers as a smirk played about his lips. And that sultry gaze was enough to shut Ally up and snuff out her nervous giggles and send a single pleasurable shiver down her spine.

Austin wrote carefully and with an uncharacteristic neatness. The black ink contrasted so sharply with her porcelain skin but he loved it. Every stroke of the pen brought him closer to her elbow and Ally found it difficult to comprehend how much she liked the feel of his hand. He finished with a soft click of the pen and stood up straight, that same irresistible smirk on his face.

She stared at him for a moment with her lips parted in curiosity and her eyes adoring. Then, snapping out of it, Ally looked down at her forearm and took a deep breath. Written there was a piece of a Charles Bukowski poem.

"… _she's mad but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire…"_

And suddenly he was pressing his lips to her cheek before she could even look up. It was one of the most affectionate gestures he'd ever performed because Austin had found that poem in one of Dez's literary books and that particular line always stuck with him for some reason. Now he knew why.

"Bye madam Ally." He whispered, lingering near and awash in the scent of her shampoo.

His closeness seemed to awaken her fully because, all at once, she was turning her head and kissing him properly but with a shy softness that was completely Ally. He wanted to run his tongue across her top lip and grab hold of her face and potentially finish what they'd started the night before between the yellow walls of her bedroom. But he just kissed her back gently, taking an electric moment to pull her bottom lip between his teeth with the kind of tempered hunger that was so quintessentially Austin. They'd kissed multiple times that weekend, and yet, as he softly grasped her chin and tasted her strawberry Chapstick at 9 something in the morning, he found himself still unable to describe the incredible feeling. All Austin knew was that she was doing it again, consuming him without even really trying.

When they finally drew back, she blushed in that adorable pink that he'd come to appreciate like a new favorite song.

"Goodbye Austin." She whispered through smiling lips, immersing herself in the brown eyes of a thick-skinned musician with the most beautiful flaws because who knew if she'd ever get the chance to do so again? Austin shot her a grin as he quickly tried to regain his normal brain function. She was so secretly confident, so internally alighted, and he loved that she allowed him even the tiniest glimpses of it.

She'd be alright without him. He was almost sure of it.

 _But will I be alright without her?_

The question carefully seeded itself in his brain as he replaced the Ray Bans on the bridge of his nose. It sprouted its first root tendrils, snaking insidiously into his mind as he stuck the MUNY pen behind his own ear and walked back over to Roxanne. By the time he was cruising down the street and Ally was just a red and grey figure in his rearview mirror, the inquiry had fully anchored itself into his grey matter.

 _Will I be alright without her?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Holy shit this is it. This is the last chapter everyone. It kind of feels like my baby is all grown up. This was my very first legitimate multi-chapter fic and I'm kinda freaking out a little that it's finished. This whole process was never just about the story, it was always about how yall receive the story and I have to thank everyone who read it whether you reviewed it or not. Thank you so much from….everything, the bottom of my heart, the keys on my laptop, the ideas in my brain, everything. Now I don't want to get all English teacher on you but I would love to hear how you guys thought I did interpreting the lyrics of the song and translating them into each chapter. Could I have done a better job with that? How? I've never written anything based on a song before and now I kind of adore the idea and would love to try it again. To** ArtistRenegade21 **, I so appreciate how loyally you've reviewed this story. I feel like you must be a creative soul to not only recognize the value in leaving a review but to also be so understanding about my writer's block. Your comment made me feel way less shitty about taking so long to update so thank you for that. To** Rainbow, **I'm so glad you trusted me not to abandon the story because things weren't looking so good for a while there lol. Okay so I saw that you re-read my story 6 times and then I had a heart attack from happiness so should I send you my medical bill oooorrrr…? To** LauraHernandez, **okay first, ummm what link? On Twitter? Who recommended? Whaaaaa? Please explain I have so many questions! And second, the fact that you love Hozier's song automatically makes you one of the coolest people on the planet *pulls out bucket of cool points* *makes it rain*. To** LuckyStarz910, **yeeeaaaahhh I know Austin can be a little much sometimes huh. For the record I was also a little alarmed by the way he spoke to Mimi but then I remembered that he's been bottling all of this anger up since he was 11! That's 12 years! That combined with the fact that he grew up in an abusive household has made him….let's say less than well-adjusted. So recognizing love, respecting his mother, expressing emotions, are all things he hasn't really had the chance to become fluent in. But yeah I get where you're coming from and I hope my explanation (and this chapter) make you less irritated :). If yall have any burning questions about the story after this then feel free to message me. Alrighty kids here we go. The conclusion.**

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 ** _"I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door." (Part 2)_**

They ambushed him the second he walked into the hotel room. Austin was hit in the face so hard with one of those big exercise balls that it knocked him right back out and onto the dirty hallway floor. He landed on his spine with unrelenting force as his shades went skittering off somewhere. The guys couldn't have given less of a shit as they descended on him like wild animals, each one armed with 2 cans of silly string. He just laid there, curled up in the fetal position with his hands cupped over his aching nose, contemplating which of his many emotions to process. He was pissed the fuck off first and foremost; only because his face hurt like hell and his sunglasses were probably broken. But then there was amusement and humiliation cresting over his anger like a sunrise, bright and almost as neon as the stringy gunk burying him on that filthy hotel carpet, because the guys were all shouting at him, screaming words of welcome peppered with profanity. They would be laughing at this for weeks to come and he didn't possess the will power to keep a blush at bay. Austin was embarrassed and yet he really wouldn't have it any other way. The other 3 members of Flesh & Bone didn't give him the whole 'you poor thing' routine. No, when one of their own was in a shitty state of mind, the rest rallied together, reminding him to man up, take some shots, rock out, and get over it. So Austin held his hands over his face and let the silly string imprison him. He stifled a laugh and stopped caring about his shattered Ray Bans and let the sound of his bandmates' raucous laughter pop his eardrums because the pain and the humiliation were, oddly, exactly what he needed.

He'd expected to be thrilled as Roxanne carried him past the outskirts of Miami once again, but it wasn't relief coursing through every blood vessel in his body. Something greyer and colder possessed him because he wasn't just vacating his childhood hellhole, he was leaving Ally behind and, somehow, she'd become the oasis in a desert of unlivable conditions. So to sit there staring down that long, vacant stretch of highway between him and One Hundred Amps struck Austin with a sense of loneliness and regret. He recognized the feelings because they'd gripped him just the same way 7 years ago as he stared out of a bus window and watched Miami shrink in the distance. Almost immediately the new runaway had wanted to get off and go crawling back to something miserable just because it was familiar. God, he'd cried so much that day. The fear of the vast unknown clutched him tighter than his father ever had. But he'd drawn a deep breath into his young lungs, then another, then another, until Florida finally transitioned into Georgia and there was no turning back. If 16 year old Austin could remain strong and resist the fear, then 23 year old Austin, with his brain still clinging to the Dawson's driveway, could certainly continue gunning Roxy up the interstate. He did 85 mph, practically throwing miles between himself and his hometown.

The drive from Miami to Atlanta was 9 hours of that single question _haunting_ him. _Will I be alright without her?_ He passed through rolling countrysides and muggy swamps and salty beach towns, all the while allowing himself to think about Ally and seriously contemplate that burning query because it was painful but cathartic. Would he be alright without her? The answer seemed obvious. After all, he'd lived 23 Allyson-less years already. Sure, that near quarter of a century hadn't been all ice cream and daisies but he had survived, even found success. But that didn't stop the blonde son of Mike and Mimi from pulling into an abandoned gas station just 5 minutes outside of Live Oak, Florida and snorting 2 white lines off of an old McDonald's receipt because, all at once, thoughts of minty green nails and tiny shoulder tattoos were breaching his brain's capacity. After the fireworks crackled away and the sound waves dissipated, a euphoria filled him from top to bottom. He was high for approximately 45 minutes, jamming out to ZZ Top's breakthrough album "Tres Hombres" and singing at the top of his lungs. When Roxy finally crossed the Georgia state line, Austin was no longer up in the clouds but he wasn't deep in the pit of despair either. He was officially in music mode, rocking out to his favorite classics and mentally running through Flesh & Bone's set list as he traversed the "Peach State". It occupied his mind enough to completely forego all thoughts of Ally. And around 7 PM, when he finally cruised those final blocks into the traffic jammed hub of Atlanta, a conflicting combination of belonging and loneliness barreled into him like a tank. He welcomed both though because he'd never really had one without the other anyway.

"It's about time you fucking showed up!" Jace laughed as the silly string cans ran empty and the cavalry retreated.

"Fuuuuuuck I hate you guys." Austin groaned as he carefully uncurled himself and checked his nostrils for blood.

"You're fine don't be a pussy." Dez chuckled as he grabbed the blonde's hand and hoisted him up just a little too fast. Austin wavered a bit but still managed a grin.

"Fuck you. How about you assholes find my fucking shades and bring my bags in."

He finally staggered into the hotel room, but not before receiving a playful but firm shove to his back. Still chuckling, he ignored it, focusing instead on applying gentle pressure up the bridge of his nose with his fingertips.

"That went better than I thought it would." An unfamiliar female voice spoke, stopping him in his tracks.

Austin cleared some of the silly string from where it hung in his face. There were 4 complete strangers scattered about the room. They just stared. One guy gave a timid little wave.

"Who're you?" Austin resumed the careful probing of his aching nose.

But before they could reply, Jace, Dez, Tucker, and Gavin came in with his luggage, the giant exercise ball, and the broken remnants of his Ray Bans.

"Oh hey Aus these are 'The Awkwardians' remember the group I was telling you about?" The redhead asked, setting the ball down between the bed and the wall.

"Yeah." Austin nodded as his ginger bestfriend started pointing around the room.

"Well that's Rae. Lead vocals." he gestured toward a black girl with a lion's mane of midnight curls. She was sitting on one of the double beds, scrolling through her phone with her legs crossed. She looked at him with eyes so big and brown that Austin's heart almost threw itself into that distinct flutter….almost. He nodded at her and she gave him a friendly smile.

Jace and Gavin took his bags towards the other other half of their 4 bed suite while Tucker sat on the room's standard writing desk.

"This is Mulaney. He does vocals and guitar." Dez pointed to a muscular guy sitting next to Rae with possibly the most glorious chestnut brown manbun and beard combo he'd ever seen.

"What's up." The hairy-faced musician greeted him and Austin nodded again.

"That's Michael, bassist and all around asshole." Dez teased.

"Hey fuck you." A handsome latino playfully flipped the bird before turning to Austin and sticking out his hand, "Hey how's it going man."

"Hey what's up." Austin replied, shaking his hand.

"And this…." Dezmond Wade ungracefully plopped into the lap of a pretty blonde seated in a nearby armchair, "…is Cara. Drummer."

"Hi." She waved at him.

"Hey." He replied with a hint of a smirk because he could tell that if Dez and miss Cara hadn't fucked yet they were one 20 minute window of privacy away from doing so. He thought about Trish's notorious jealousy and shook his head with a chuckle. If only she could see how her little ginger snap was behaving.

"Shut up." Reading his mind, Dez pointed a warning finger at him.

Austin just laughed and continued to scrape silly string from his shirt and hair. He wasn't sure if he should mention that he was only familiar with one of The Awkwardians' songs. He had a tendency to be brutally honest when it came to music and didn't want to risk offending the group by telling them how mediocre he thought " _Anxiety_ " or " _Anxious_ " was. So he kind of just maneuvered around the topic.

"You guys have a show tonight?" he asked.

"No we had one earlier today to make up for that whole sound debacle on Friday." Rae rolled her eyes, "So we've got nothing going on tonight. Thought we'd just hang out backstage while you guys went on."

"That might come off easier if you let it dry first." Cara suggested, referring to the brightly colored gunk still covering him. She wrapped her arms around Dez's waist.

"Nope!" Jace came back into the main room, "No time for that, we have soundcheck in T-minus 20 minutes."

"Are you serious?" Austin's eyebrows rose in disbelief, "I was gonna pass out for an hour before the show."

"Tough shit." he replied, pulling a grey bomber jacket on over his army green tee, "You've missed a bunch of shows and now it's time to go to work. I don't want to have to bring Tuck's shitty ass up on stage anymore."

The 17 year old threw an unused hotel notepad at his older cousin as everyone laughed. Being well below the drinking age meant Tucker was always left alone in the hotel room while the guys went out. And, to make matters worse, at some point he'd become the official target for every joke or prank his temporary bandmates could think up. For the past few days his only consolation had been standing onstage, playing for hundreds of screaming girls. That silver living had immediately vanished with Austin's arrival. He threw a small handful of pens at his still laughing cousin.

"Are we driving?" Austin asked, "The traffic was insane when I came in."

"No we've just been walking everywhere." Dez replied, "It takes like 10 minutes to get to the venue."

The blonde sighed because he was running on 4 hours of sleep and a coke high that had ended a long time ago.

"Alright I'll be ready in a sec I gotta take a leak and change my clothes." He headed in the direction of the second bedroom area where they'd taken his suitcase.

"Oh what the fuck Gavin!?"

Austin watched the very unmanly sight unfold before him with annoyance and the slightest amusement. There on one of the double beds, sitting indian style with a fat grey British Shorthair in his lap, was Flesh & Bone's bassist, hand feeding his spoiled cat and making baby talk just under his breath.

Instead of changing his outfit, Austin stayed in the bathroom a little longer to remove as much of the silly string as he could. On finally reemerging, he only rummaged through his suitcase for something to keep him awake.

The two bands walked over to the venue together. Austin had a baggy of coke in his jacket pocket but by the time they arrived at their designated stage for sound check he knew he wouldn't need it. There was so much electricity in the atmosphere he thought lightning might come shooting down from the cloudless night and fry him. It buzzed like a beehive and he felt the vibrations bounce about his lungs with every breath. As they approached the park everything intensified. Traffic, both on the sidewalk and in the street, grew thicker, the sound of multiple bands rocking out filled the air, and Austin's excitement bloomed wide because he was finally there. He hadn't even gotten on stage yet, he hadn't even shown the crowds what he was capable of yet, but just transitioning from the concrete sidewalk to the lush grass of Piedmont Park's One Hundred Amps rock festival incited this natural high in him, as if he was completely shit-faced on anticipation alone. He could hardly focus on whatever Dez was saying beside him as both bands navigated the dense crowds. All he cared about was keeping a tight grip on the guitar case in his hand and savoring every chaotic second. They moved through throngs of leather jackets and scantily clad women, whooping drunks and dancing bodies, lively stages and busy vendors. They passed by a guy selling concert tees, one of which had the Flesh & Bone logo, and Austin nearly lost. his. fucking. shit.

"Okay let's make this quick." Some dark haired guy with an iPad and a headset addressed them as their combined group approached an empty stage from the side. "Uuuhhh…" he scanned the tablet rapidly, "Awkwardians can hang out backstage that's fine and FB we need mic checks and any changes you've made in the set list."

Gavin stayed behind to discuss the few tweaks and suggestions Austin made as the rest of the bands headed to where they were supposed to be.

Sound check went off without a hitch because how could it not? Austin was primed and ready and the rest of the guys could sense that.

"Alright everything's peachy you can head backstage now. You're on in 10." Headset guy informed them, never looking up from the all-important iPad.

And holy shit if those weren't some of the longest minutes of Austin's young life. The guys joined The Awkwardians backstage, sitting around and chatting it up. But F & B's frontman couldn't help standing in the wings. His brown eyes watched the crowd multiply before him as the seconds ticked down to showtime. He felt himself growing wild with anticipation. He was fidgety, he was giddy, and he suddenly wondered why he ever bothered with coke anymore when even just the promise of performing could leave him tweaked out of his mind.

"Flesh & Bone! 2 minutes to showtime!" this time a headset girl was calling out instructions, eyes glued to the tablet in her hands, "When you hear the introduction then head out. It ain't rocket science."

And then she was gone, off handling something else. And Austin finally joined the rest of both bands as they lounged around a couple of couches. Jace, Gavin, and Dez stood up.

"This is fucking it you guys." Their blonde vocalist approached them all grinning like a mad man. "We can't fuck this up."

"Are you kidding?" Jace twirled one of his drumsticks, "With Tuck out of the way we're already 300 percent better."

"Fuck you Jace!" Tucker sat there trying hard not to pout in front of Cara or Rae.

"I'm just messing with you kid." He laughed.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" They suddenly heard a voice boom from the stage and Austin's heartbeat grew so fast he thought he might faint.

It was the same light-headed tornado of exhilaration and insecurity he'd felt the very first time he ever performed with the guys, back when they kind of sucked a little and called themselves Copper Top. Didi had gotten them the most cliché of gigs at a coffee house and they planned on doing some of their lighter songs for what they assumed would be a pretty mellow crowd. He was so nervous that he threw up in the restroom 20 minutes before they were supposed to go on. The guys teased him about it for weeks. But not Didi. She ventured into the boys bathroom with neither hesitation nor shame and sat there rubbing his back as he buried his head in the bowl. And then, to both his embarrassment and relief, she revealed that she'd brought along a toothbrush and some toothpaste for just such an event. Whispering under her breath, she admitted that she'd thought Gavin would've been the one to blow chunks, and Austin had laughed as he brushed his teeth and Didi smiled at him in the mirror. If his heart hadn't been permanently closed to the world since 2005, he might've fallen in love that very second. She was the kindest person he'd ever interacted with and, though that sweetness penetrated a few of his layers, there was still a lot of Austin that remained guarded. And so what might've been an intense romantic love, became more of the brother-sister kind and that was okay with both of them.

"Hey!" Austin called as 'Flesh! And! Booooooone!' rang out around them followed by thunderous applause, "For Didi?"

"Hell fucking yes for Didi!" Gavin agreed.

"For the angel!" Jace pointed towards the sky.

Dez simply tapped his palm across his chest where their shared tattoo lay printed into his skin and nodded solemnly. The four of them went rushing towards the stage with The Awkwardians' good lucks exploding at their backs.

They immediately started with " _Green_ " once the applause had somewhat settled. It was a more upbeat song that Austin himself wrote years ago mostly while under the influence of ecstasy for the first and only time. He couldn't remember much from that night except for the frantic scribbling he'd done once they returned to the apartment. The lyrics referred to a girl who was almost too bold, too sexy, but undeniably intriguing. He had an inkling he'd subconsciously written it about Nina and that night under the mahogany conference table. Those jade green eyes of hers seemed to beckon him even in the dark, even across years. Dez had a sax solo in the middle and those jazzy notes always crawled directly up Austin's spine giving him the same fearful excitement that the young Latina had. The song ended with Jace tapping a light crescendo on the cymbals. The audience didn't even let him finish before they were hollering and applauding their approval. Austin soaked it up like a sponge as he swapped out his Gibson for the Tele. Once the instrument lay across his body and he'd tuned into his inner Bruce Springsteen, the blonde grabbed the mic.

"One Hundred Fucking Amps!" he shouted to an entire ocean of rabid fans who hadn't stopped cheering yet and only grew louder with his enthusiasm.

"This next song is about holding on," the blonde positioned his hands on the neck and body of his Fender, "when you ought to be letting go."

The transition from sultry " _Green_ " to angsty " _Keeping Her Too Long_ " was jarring but it worked. The crowd awoke as a sea of pumping fists and banging heads as Austin launched into the first powerful chords. He sang Dez's heartache to the city, throwing out certain words with an emotional rasp and capturing grief that was 5 years old but sometimes so vibrant it felt new. When they reached the bridge, he, Dez, and Gavin dropped out to let Jace go at it alone on the drums. Austin belted to the simple but forceful beat of snares and bass drums and nothing else. The crowd lost its collective mind, feeling their pulses slow to match Jace's solo rhythm.

"We're gonna take it slow again stay with us OHA!" he grinned into the mic once "Keeping Her Too Long" ended and the applause died down. "Recently I had this girl tell me that the first time she heard this next song, she loved it so much that she listened to it 6 more times in a row."

For one fuzzy, barely there moment, Austin's fingers went up to grasp something sitting just behind his ear. But then, remembering he'd left the MUNY pen in his suitcase, he simply brushed his hair back and counted them into the soft beginnings of " _Crawling_ ". As they played and harmonized, the blonde suddenly realized why he hadn't changed his clothes even though a few bits of silly string were crusted to his shirt. He knew she'd be watching and that's why he told the guys they should add " _Crawling_ " to the setlist and that's why he kept on his slightly soiled AC/DC tee. Because it was obviously one of her favorite songs and because it was the last outfit she'd seen him in and somehow that connected them across 663 miles. So he let the microphone graze his lips as he sang and thought of Ally, hoping that, in her infinite ability to read him, she'd know she was on his mind.

"Okay so," he addressed the people standing before him, listening to his voice echo about the space, "who here has ever had someone piss them the fuck off?"

A monstrous roar rose as every single body present whooped in solidarity.

"Well I was so pissed off when I wrote this song that every time I sing it I get angry all over again. So if you hear me use some…..foul language…." Austin turned to grin at the rest of his band as the crowd cheered again, "…then I apologize. I get caught up in the moment sometimes you know."

The very first word of " _Little Prince_ " was 'fuck' and their audience ate it up. He focused on just vocals for that one, the Tele slung across his back as Gavin's bass worked overtime and Dez's keyboard accompanied. Austin growled the lyrics as a familiar anger crept into him. Then there was a moment of silence as long as a single heartbeat before the other three slammed back into the melody and he shouted the chorus.

"Oh taste my bitter insolence, I'll pack my bags and scale the fence, live off pocket change and common sense, and I swear to God I'm not your fucking little prince!"

Flesh & Bone was in rare form. They fed perfectly off of a band-binding chemistry nearly 7 years in the making. Austin wowed everyone, including himself, when they played " _Unfashionable_ " and he put the entirety of his effort into crooning like it truly was 1957 and Ally was the only poodle-skirt wearing chick in attendance. They kept it slow after that with " _Rust_ ". He closed his eyes as the song began and, when he finally opened them halfway through it, Austin grew the tiniest bit breathless as he stared out over a burning orange sea of lighters, flames waving with the saxophone-heavy melody. There were hundreds of people watching and swaying and finding themselves in the sadness. He couldn't believe he'd forgone days of such an experience for Mike fucking Moon of all people….or even for Ally Dawson. Sure she was something special, something different, but music was what told his heart to keep beating.

They closed the short show with " _Rabid Party Animals_ " to keep it upbeat and show off Dez's unending creativity. They could barely get the last note out before the crowd erupted in an overwhelmingly positive response.

"Thank you OHA! We're Flesh & Bone!" Austin, dripping with sweat, yelled into the mic. The four of them, all tired and exhilarated and bonded irreversibly as brothers, lined up beside one another and took a bow in unison. The second they got backstage Cara completely ignored Dez's perspiration and wrapped him into a tight hug, screaming over the sound of the still cheering crowd about how incredible they were. Austin was riding so high up on cloud 9 that he thought he may never ever come down.

That night around 11:30 they celebrated. A law had passed years ago that allowed the sale of alcohol in every county in the state of Georgia on Sundays and their supergroup took full advantage. Mulaney, who was an Atlanta native, even got Tucker a fake ID. The 17 year old ultimately ended up passing out around 2:45 am after a grand total of 3 vodka shots. They drew a mustache-goatee combo on his face with black sharpee because of course they did. Dez and Cara spent the entire night alternating between chugging beers and making out because of course they did. Austin didn't care about telling him it was wrong to cheat on Trish though. He was incapable of caring about anything that night because the entirety of his being, body, mind, everything, was numb with booze and euphoria. That was Sunday. A truly glorious Sunday that he knew he'd look back on as one of the happiest days he'd ever experienced.

And then on Monday he fucked Rae and that was pretty fantastic too. Well, actually Rae kind of fucked him if you wanted to be technical about it. They were both sober and reeked of chlorine because it all started in the pool. He was sitting on the slick, tiled edge, his ass planted directly on the 4 ft. sign and his feet swirling lazily in the water. The guys had generously replaced his broken Ray bans with a pair of neon pink aviators that were clearly made for girls. Still, he rocked them with the kind of confidence that could pull off anything. Jace by his side, the blonde sat there covered in unexpected March heat, bare chested. The rest of the groups, both Flesh & Bone and The Awkwardians, were scattered about the pool area. His mind was fixated on a single memory: the very first time he and Ally kissed. He could almost hear the way she'd whispered his name, so willing but afraid. And he couldn't escape the scent of rain because it was somehow even more powerful than the chlorine. Jace rambled on about an idea he had for the show later that night but Austin couldn't offer any of his attention. Behind the Barbie pink shades, his eyes stared sightlessly at the bright blue water and found Ally's frightened expression below the surface. His recollection was so vivid it was a miracle anything could snap him out of it. If Rae hadn't been wearing a metallic bikini, Austin might've spent the rest of the afternoon stuck in his own mind. But the singer gingerly descended the pool steps in a shiny silver 2-piece that caught the light without mercy. That's all she was at first, just a shiny thing in his periphery. But it was still enough for him to glance over. He watched her cross the pool in slow motion, shooting him this quick but meaningful look just before she began to tread water. By the time she reached the 6 ½ feet and gripped the concrete edge, Austin had slipped into the water and was closing in because he knew that look like the back of his hand. They talked about nothing in particular as he pressed close and they tread the deep end. Then, when the conversation lulled into a natural silence, they filled it with more of those knowing looks. The clock in her hotel room read 2:15 pm as he undid all of her bikini strings and buried his tongue in her mouth. Then it was 2:26 and she was gently riding him into the promise land. He massaged her breasts and tried to stop thinking about an entirely different set of brown eyes. It felt so good his head was reeling. The blonde had to bite his lip because his mental faculties were crumbling and he knew if his mouth was allowed to say anything it'd be "Ally" and then all hell would break loose. If only Rae didn't have such a dark brown gaze. If only he hadn't had a shy but feisty songwriter consuming his mind for the past few hours. And if only there wasn't residual pool water trailing down Rae's silky skin and looking exactly like rain on the window of a VW Bug. She came. He followed right after. And as his body tensed in pleasure, he called out Ally's name. Rae just laughed it off and told him it was okay as she collected her silver 2-piece.

The Awkwardians performed before Flesh & Bone that evening. The 4 Virginia boys hung around backstage listening as they soothed the crowd with their own brand of soft indie-pop-rock. Austin realized they weren't as mediocre as he'd once thought and Rae's voice possessed this soulful quality that lent itself beautifully to their musical aesthetic. When they came jogging offstage to a very loud, satisfied audience, the brown-skinned girl gave him a cheeky smile and ruffled his hair. And from the very second that her fingers brushed against his scalp, Austin could think of nearly nothing else but the way that Ally had done the same thing. Of course she was high on cocaine at the time but that didn't matter to him because, after all, isn't that when the truths are most evident? After the inhibitions melt away? He could practically see the sunny yellow paint on her walls as Flesh & Bone took the stage to raucous cheers. And when they launched into yet another slightly tweaked set list, his mind was so preoccupied with the phantom feel of Dawson's fingertips that he had to focus extra hard on remembering the lyrics to " _Muscle Fibers_ ".

Austin didn't really realize he was hurting until Tuesday. It was an insidious pain that crawled in such slow intensity that at first he thought he was just getting sick or something. He woke up that morning with a generalized but very mild ache that started at the base of his neck and encompassed the whole front and back of his torso. Maybe partying 2 nights in a row was catching up to him? He and the guys headed to brunch in hopes of conquering the hangover blues. Over Belgian waffles and Colorado omelets, he told the guys about Miami and the funeral and even mentioned miss Ally Dawson. He left out the darker pats of her of course. Nauseous and tired yet unable to help themselves, Jace and Dez grinned at him, demanding to know just how hot this girl was and exactly how far he'd gotten with her.

"Is that all you guys care about?" Gavin fixed them with a blue-eyed stare from behind his shades. "You know he just put his old man in the ground right?"

"Aus doesn't give a shit about that guy." Jace waved him off with a strip of turkey bacon.

"J's right." The blonde mumbled from where he sat slouched in the booth, sipping his coffee. He didn't want to talk about Ally but he DEFINITELY didn't want to talk about his father and all the conflicting emotions he still carried.

"See." Bacon crumbs flew from their drummer's mouth, "So tell us about this Cally chick."

"Wait was it Cally or Ally? I thought you said Ally." Dez stirred his bloody mary.

"Ally." He replied.

"So you guys fuck or what?"

Behind the Barbie pink sunglasses Austin rolled his eyes, "No we didn't she's one of those good girls you know."

They groaned in response.

"I met her at the wake and it was just easier to hang out with her than listen to my mom and aunt blubbering the whole time."

"Ugh I fucking hate funerals." Jace shuddered.

"I think everybody does dumbass." Gavin grinned as the rest of the guys chuckled.

"Whatever."

"Dez you got anymore Tylenol?" Austin asked the red head beside him, who handed over a small plastic bottle. He downed 2 more pills because, for some reason, that vague pain in his core had gotten just slightly worse in the past few seconds.

"Oh yeah I had an idea for a new song. You think you could take a look?" the blonde asked as he passed the Tylenol back to Dez.

"Yeah sure. Christ knows I haven't gotten any writing done with Cara around." The ginger replied, shaking his head like it was truly a shame but grinning at the same time.

So Austin explained the puke and the ants and showed everyone the line and potential song title he'd typed into his cell phone that very first day in Miami. Dez read them and thought for a moment then began to scribble on a napkin, every so often instructing Jace to drum out a rough beat on the tabletop with his fingers. They worked on " _Ant Nirvana_ " for most of the morning until the lyrics started to go in a weird direction and Dez deemed it necessary to take a break.

Tucker, with his black marker facial hair, was still out cold on his cot when they returned to the hotel room.

"I can't believe the bouncers here actually bought that bullshit fake ID of his." Jace kicked off his shoes and flopped face down on the bed. "That shit wouldn't fly in Virginia."

"I know right." Gavin agreed as he scooped Turkey up into his arms, "Kid barely even looks 17 let alone 21."

And in that very instant Austin remembered it was Ally's birthday.

"You okay Aus?" Dez asked, lifting his shades just long enough to scrutinize his best friend.

"Oh fuck you're not gonna puke are you?" Jace groaned, face still buried in a pillow.

"I think I'm getting a cold or something." Austin shuffled to his and Gavin's shared bedroom space. "I'm gonna pass out for a while."

That night at their show, as the last notes of " _Explore_ " rang out and a mob even larger than the one on Sunday applauded, he put his lips to the microphone.

"This next song is for Ally." He addressed the masses with adrenaline coursing thickly through him and suppressing the ache of his imminent illness. With several random Ally's screeching excitedly in the crowd, he couldn't help but laugh and send an amused look to his bandmates. Dez wiggled his eyebrows.

"Okay seriously though." Austin repeated to the continued pleasure of every Ally in attendance. Then he stared directly into the lens of a nearby MTV camera and smirked.

"Happy birthday Ally."

And then they played " _Crawling_ " for, as far as he was concerned, an audience of one.

On Wednesday, Austin was uncharacteristically rude to a beautiful young groupie who'd overstayed her welcome. He awoke with her slender arms around him and a headache. Her name was Jenna and she was 'such a HUGE fan OH EM GEE!' that she insisted they party together after their show last night. Austin could barely get off stage and wipe the sweat from his eyes before she was practically shoving her tits in his face and typing her number into his cell. He didn't call her but of course she and her friends just happened to show up at the same club around midnight. He was wasted from trying to drink away the cold still building in his chest and head. 2 hours later and they were a tangle of thrusts and nudity in his bed. 7 hours after that and his eyes were opening to her purple hair with immediate irritation. He normally didn't mind his one-night stands sleeping over. Hell as long as they totally understood him when he said he wasn't looking for a relationship, he was often down to do breakfast the next morning. But all he wanted at 9ish AM on that Wednesday was to be alone. So he shook her shoulder until she woke up then told her to hit the pavement. Jenna cussed, A LOT, as she dressed and exited but he was in too much discomfort to give a shit. It wasn't a normal headache because it was like the pain in his whole torso had grown, encroaching on his skull and all it contained. And, on top of that, it wasn't even normal pain either. He felt antsy and fidgety. He felt like he needed to be doing something, anything, because it hurt to just lie there doing nothing. There was an unnatural kind of energy stored in him and itching to be released. But he had absolutely no idea what it was that his body and mind were aching for, so he just stayed in bed and tried not to smell Jenna's pina colada body spray on his sheets.

The guys had to practically rip him from the mattress. They didn't have any shows scheduled that day but Flesh & Bone was booked to the teeth with promotional responsibilities. It was part of their OHA contract to do interviews with certain networks, blogs, websites, and magazines of the festival's choosing. So, like the geniuses that they are, the guys had scheduled all of that stuff for one single day in order to get it over with. For practically 6 hours straight Austin smiled and joked and fielded the same questions over and over again, all while his insides mysteriously deteriorated. He didn't truly feel sick. There was no scratch in his throat, no sneezing, no snotty nose. But he just felt trapped and lost in his own skin without any explanation why or any apparent means of escape. It made him crave solitude, especially with EVERY annoying interviewer hounding him about the whole "Happy birthday Ally" thing. He was too tired to lie so when they insinuated that he and this 'mystery girl' may be romantically linked, which they always did, he simply said that yes he'd kissed a brunette back in Miami but their status was complicated. And when they flat out asked if they were boyfriend and girlfriend he shrugged, being so honest yet vague that the vultures eventually moved on. None of the VJ's, journalists, or reporters knew about his father's passing. Or if they did, they didn't mention it.

After the interview train came to its final stop, he wanted nothing more than to crawl back to bed and hibernate. But what kind of friends would Jace, Dez, and Gavin be if they allowed him to do such a thing? So they literally carried him out of the hotel, Gavin and Dez got his arms while Jace and Tucker grabbed an ankle each, and kidnapped him down to the festival because he really hadn't had much opportunity to enjoy it as a non-performer. They walked the park grounds as attendees, scarfing down festival food and hitting up the shows. He got to see Alabama Shakes and The 1975. They rocked out to Tenement's set, headbanged with Torche, and lost their fucking minds at the much-anticipated reunion of Twisted Sister. By the time they were all stuffed to bursting with chili dogs and carrying a whole new wardrobe of concert tees, Austin's skin seemed to fit him just fine again. He didn't know what the illness was but he did know that One Hundred Amps seemed to be the cure. Of course it was. Isn't that what he'd been telling himself all along when Miami started to suck the life out of him? That he needed to reach his nirvana, his Eden, a rock music festival full of people who gave him the 2 things he'd never had growing up:

Acceptance and understanding.

He felt even more like himself in that environment. And Austin rode the high of that feeling for the rest of the night…..or at least until they got back to the hotel room….

The plan had always been to go out and get fucked up every night of the festival so Dez texted Cara and invited The Awkwardians to pregame around 10:30. Austin rummaged through his suitcase for a clean pair of boxer briefs to throw on after his shower. And there between a white crewneck t-shirt and his Batman undies, was the yellow MUNY pen. He hesitated only a second, without truly understanding why, before grabbing it and twirling it in his fingers like a drumstick. His mind began to wonder just how many more songs Ally had written since he left. Had his departure been significant enough to inspire music in her? He wasn't sure if that'd be a good or bad thing. Did he really want Ally scribbling sad songs in her little book because their intense interaction had ended all too quickly? He wondered how much sleep she'd been getting the past few nights. His brown eyes scanned the pen sitting in his hand, the same pen that had been sitting in _her_ hand, in her hair, moving furiously across a sheet of paper to help her express emotions that were almost always bubbling over.

It was remarkable. Austin could hardly believe how good he'd felt just a few seconds ago because, standing there in front of his suitcase with a pen from some school he'd never get into, his entire mood had taken a nosedive. So he pregamed hard. And when they went out, he drank harder, until that downward spiral became a dizzying upswing.

On Thursday they met some record company big-wigs for an early breakfast meeting that was so brief they couldn't tell if the suits were even really interested or not. Either way they got a business card and a 'we'll keep in touch' and that was oddly a good enough reason for bottomless mimosas. Austin took 'bottomless' as a personal challenge because he was still thinking about Ally's sad songs and that worry pulsated in the folds of his brain like a second heartbeat. OHA would be ending the following day, so when they performed in a few hours at 4pm, it would be for the last time at the festival. He wanted to drown everything

The guys dumped their stumbling lead vocalist back in bed after breakfast because he was just a little too drunk to go to the mall with them.

"I'm gonna set your alarm for 2:50 okay?" Dez fiddled with Austin's phone as the blonde lay sprawled across the mattress.

He mumbled in response before quickly drifting off to sleep. The festival was over tomorrow and Austin was in agony. He wanted so badly to return to Virginia but his dreams took him directly to Miami…

 _Someone was screaming. Well….not someone. Ally was screaming. He knew that because he was staring right at her and those cherry red lips he'd kissed so many times were wide open. Inside, her tongue was incredibly pink. They stood in the bathroom of his old bedroom. Austin hadn't taken his eyes off of Ally in the least, but still he knew that's where they were. He could feel the sink pressing into his lower back, and the ice cold tiles beneath his bare soles. She was dressed in all yellow: flowy sundress, wide-brimmed felt hat, and the familiar Birkenstocks, now a sunny goldenrod, dangled from her fingers. If he had looked down, he would've seen the yellow polish on her toenails and the beach sand clinging to her damp feet. But he didn't look down. He didn't need to. He already knew. She was still screaming. She hadn't stopped in a small eternity. It was pure horror, roiling in her lungs and bursting from her throat. He stared into her wide brown eyes as they glossed with unshed tears. There was only about a single foot, 12 inches, of space between them. If he wanted, the blonde could reach out and touch her. And he did want. His right hand rose, like it was its own master, and landed numbly on her shoulder. The screams stopped instantly, as if he'd flipped a switch. Her red lips pressed into a thin hard line. The tears finally began to fall. They'd forgotten how to blink. Their eye contact never broke._

 _"_ _I thought you couldn't find it."_

 _Her voice shuddered in a delicate whisper. He said nothing._

 _"_ _I thought you couldn't find it….I thought you couldn't find it…."_

 _The two were frozen, immovable in the place he'd wanted to escape the most, his hand on her shoulder and her gaze devouring him._

 _"_ _I thought you couldn't find it…I thought you couldn't find it…I thought youcouldn'tfindit..I thought you couldn't find itIthought you couldn't finditIthoughtyoucouldn'tfindit AUSTIN!" she shrieked loud enough to make his ears ring._

 _"_ _Couldn't find what Ally!?" his voice finally worked again._

 _She didn't answer, but her eyes did, sliding painfully slow to the gentle hand still grasping her shoulder. Instinctively, Austin held both of his calloused palms up to his face, examining them and allowing his gaze to leave Ally Dawson for the first time. And what he saw violently ripped the very soul from his body. It wasn't his palms, it was below his palms. It was those parts of the body that you really don't think about until they become your only means of escape._

 _"_ _I thought you couldn't find it…" Ally's whisper echoed as if she'd shouted it._

 _A pulse, life giving and unmistakeable, throbbed softly just beneath the skin of his wrists. The beat filled his ears. He watched as invisible blades began to slice directly over his pulsating flesh. Thin red lines split his wrists completely open. Blood poured dark red down his arms in a gory stream of heat and life. His entire body grew so cold he could feel frost grip his inner surfaces. There was no physical pain, but the absolute terror of what was happening, what was about to happen once the gushing stopped, buckled Austin's knees and sent him collapsing to the floor in a pathetic prayer position._

 _"_ _I didn't do it Ally!" he cried to the brunette still standing before him and watching with eyes full of misery. He held his hands up to her, begging her to believe him before it was too late._

 _"_ _I didn't do this! I couldn't find it! I swear I couldn't find it!" he struggled to speak as sobs clawed at his throat. Blood coursed down his outstretched arms and dripped on his jeans and the floor._

 _Her sandals thudded like thunder against the tiles as she released them and dropped to her knees with him. The red bled into her dress hem. It tainted everything. It tainted_ **everything.** _It tainted Ally's palms and seeped in between her fingers as she wrapped her small hands around his open wrists tighter than he'd ever thought her capable of. The crimson torrent slowed to a grisly trickle. Her knuckles flushed ghostly white._

 _He looked at her, Ally Dawson, covered in yellow because she was Florida sunshine, because she was acres of Daffodils full bloom. She gazed at him with eyes that wouldn't stop crying and a smile overflowing with kindness. When he spoke, his voice wavered._

 _"_ _I didn't do this I promise."_

 _Her stare never faltered. Her grip never loosened. "I know Austin."_

 _She kissed him. Red lipstick stained his mouth as his red blood stained her skirt. The taste of strawberries flooded his tongue._

Austin's eyelids flew open so fast that his vision blurred momentarily. He felt around the nightstand beside him to shut off his phone's blaring alarm. And when the silence settled again and his sight sharpened, Austin Moon turned slowly onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow, wanting for one insane moment to smother himself because fuck shit FUCK!...

He…missed her.

Residual intoxication clouded his mind slightly with champagne and orange juice, leaving him just able to hate the idea but completely UNable to deny it.

He _missed_ her.

He grabbed 2 fistfuls of his blonde hair, pushing his face deeper and harder into the pillow. What the fuck was the matter with him? It was never part of the plan to miss anyone. Austin Moon didn't miss _people_ because _people_ never offered him anything he couldn't already find in between his guitar strings. But how could he pretend not to know what that ache in his chest meant? What that itch under his skin meant?

And then, completely out of NOWHERE, Austin's head shot up off of the pillow because a thought hit him so hard he worried it might fracture him.

"Oh fuck." He whispered so softly with what little breath he had.

His stomach and intestines and every other vital organ twisted into painful, impossible knots. Turkey watched from Gavin's vacant bed as Austin tore his hands through his hair because….

What if she ran into Dallas again?

Miami was a huge city but it could be so strangely small sometimes. Dallas knew she was there, he probably knew what kind of car she drove. Holy fucking shit. Austin squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to erase sudden images of that loser douchebag pressing up against Ally as she screamed. Jesus Christ. He gulped oxygen quickly but quietly, afraid to fully release his panic. But holy shit what if? _WHAT IF?_ It was unlikely and he knew that but still….

What if?

"Oh good you're awake. We're back." Gavin, aka Captain Obvious, came waltzing in the room, "We're gonna head out in a few so get ready. Aw hey Turk."

The bassist set down his shopping bags and gave the meowing cat an affectionate scratch behind its ear.

"Uh yeah okay." Austin rasped, attempting to calm himself.

"Gav is Austin up!" Dez called from the other room.

"Yeah!" he responded, swiftly hoisting Turkey into his arms.

His walk wobbled a little but Austin managed to collect his clothes and make it to the bathroom. He showered quickly under the hottest water his body could stand.

The blonde left it all backstage, the worry and the longing that followed him to their venue. He was a professional when he performed, always. And if any of those troublesome thoughts did sneak up on him in the middle of a song, Austin had learned a long time ago how to channel them into his music. His grief was rawer in " _Keeping Her Too Long_ " when a fleeting memory of Ally crossed his mind. His guitar solo was more aggressive in " _Completely Lost_ " as the name Dallas plagued his brain. Their audience loved it. As a band they'd done what they came to do. They wanted to play their music and have it mean something to someone. They wanted to be recognized for their hard work and talent. Flesh & Bone had played at One Hundred fucking Amps and killed it. The only problem for Austin was that leaving it all backstage meant that it was all there waiting for him when he was done.

The guys and the Awkwardians, booed him and threw empty beer cans when he announced, in the middle of their pregaming at the hotel, that he wasn't going out that night. Their show had ended hours ago, he was showered and dressed for the bars and clubs but, at the last minute, he'd lost all desire to do anything even remotely social.

"We survived OHA dude!" Jace reminded him, "We HAVE to celebrate."

"Yeah Aus." Dez agreed with a lapful of an already tipsy Cara.

The guys insisted but Austin really didn't think he was capable of enjoy anything at the moment. So he told them he was feeling sick which wasn't too far from the truth. That constant, hovering ache was back and it seemed to radiate everywhere. In the end they left him to wallow in his pseudo-illness alone.

The blonde nursed a single beer for hours as he stalked the only social media platforms that Ally Dawson seemed to have: Facebook and Instagram. She hadn't posted anything in nearly 3 months, so sending a message seemed useless. Instead he navigated her profiles all the way back to 2011 and tried not to accidentally like anything.

He missed her.

But how could he miss someone he barely knew? It was amazing and ridiculous how they'd managed to somehow stretch the days until they felt like months. In reality though they were basically strangers. Strangers who knew each other's deepest secrets, but strangers nonetheless. Ally knew that his father physically abused him from ages 11 to 16 but she didn't even know that he was allergic to eggplant. She knew that he'd once attempted to end his life but she didn't know that he was a headstrong Capricorn with a penchant for video games, a knack for cooking, and whose middle name, Monica, was his greatest insecurity. He knew that Ally had something precious stolen from her one night in New York, but he had no idea about her favorite food, her likes and dislikes, her hobbies.

If they'd met under different circumstances would things have still turned out the same? What if Austin didn't come rolling into Miami with a duffel bag full of coke and a heart full of resentment? What if he wasn't this jumbled, indecipherable mess of hatred and mourning for the man who'd influenced his life the most? Would non-conflicted Austin have connected with guarded Ally so well? What if she really was in Miami for Spring Break and nothing else? He found it hard to believe that talented, intelligent, well-adjusted Ally would go for someone as fucked up as he was. And yet none of that mattered because he WAS a shitstorm of grief and anger and she WAS a damaged fortress begging to be dismantled and they had found one another in their miseries.

What Austin did next wasn't a truly conscious decision. He simply closed his laptop and stuffed it into his suitcase because he knew that if he started to think too much he might change his mind. It was like a different Austin took over, an Austin who was completely insane yet resolved, an Austin who knew what needed to be done. That Austin pulled on his sneakers then calmly packed the rest of his things. He allowed snow to dust the inside of his lungs because he would need to stay awake for a long time. The duffle bag on his shoulder and the handle of the rolling suitcase in hand, Flesh & Bone's lead vocalist crossed the hotel room that looked as though a hurricane had been staying in it instead of 4 rowdy rock musicians….and Tucker. It was 1:48 am and he was really fucking doing this. The revelation itself sent another aching pang to echo against his heart chambers. As Austin passed the little generic desk in their room, he stopped to write the guys a note explaining everything...or at least everything that they needed to know. He signed it simply 'Aus', and tossed the hotel pen over his shoulder for no other reason but that nothing was making sense anymore anyway.

He piled his luggage in Roxy's trunk yet again and she only squeaked lightly in response. Residual fireworks crackled just behind his eyes as he climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door. That bump of coke had been substantial because he didn't want to have to stop at a hotel. He sat there for a minute in the dim parking garage with Roxanne T. Honda wrapped around him faithfully.

The hellish part of Austin's life began a few months after his 11th birthday. And because it would take 5 years to run away, that terrible half a decade clung to him always, and only really lifted when he was flying weightlessly under the influence. He started to toughen himself at age 16 because he'd made up his mind to run away when the time was right and being helpless would never be an option again. As a result, Austin hadn't been vulnerable in a long time. So when Mike died and the softness of such a forgotten sensation closed over him that weekend, and in Miami of all places, the blonde was in desperate need of something to grab onto. And there was Ally, guarded and beautiful and sad, just within his reach. There was really only 1 thing that Austin truly truly needed in life and that was his guitar. A year and a half of living off of pocket change had taught him that. But maybe Ally wasn't a need. Maybe she was something else, some kind of a 'want' that was stronger than anything he'd desired before.

The traffic wasn't too terrible at that time of night and Austin was zooming past the Atlanta city limits in just under 20 minutes. As he drove that long but familiar road to Miami, he thought about his life, his music, his family, his friends, and, most of all, Ally.

Austin remembered the first time he'd seen her and how she scared the shit out of him. It was hard to forget that vacant look on her face, like she didn't even know where she was or who she was or why the salt of sadness dripped from her eyes. He'd had to tap on the glass 3 times to shatter her trance. She came back to herself quickly and it surprised him how the mystery girl's face transformed completely from a look of haunted despair to a sweetly embarrassed blush.

He thought about Didi and how proud she'd be to see her boys kicking ass at OHA. That perfect red head was there when Dez's braces severely hampered his sax-playing abilities and when Jace hadn't even mastered the kick-flip on his skateboard yet. She was there when Gavin's grandfather passed away in 2005, offering him her condolences and a tiny little 9 week old grey furball. She was the one whose heart sang as Gav accepted his new cat with a tearful smile because she knew that caring for a life would give him purpose and help him heal. And it was Didi who, grinning, leaned in to confess 'So you don't have to go with this but I've been calling him Turkey for like the past 2 days. No idea why so don't even ask.' It was Gavin's first real laugh in a week. She was there to set Austin's thieving ass straight and introduce him to the 3 brothers he'd never had. She was there when the practices were disastrous and the music wasn't so great but the laughs were endless. He tapped his chest twice with the flat of his hand, remembering always what the tattoo there stood for.

Austin thought about cigarette smoke and relentless sunshine in the funeral home alleyway. Ally had blushed so many times there. At first she evaded his questions as if touching them might destroy everything. That same day, after their encounter left him hungry for more of her, Austin had even considered asking his mom what she could tell him about the Dawson's secretive daughter. But in the end he didn't. That would've been cheating.

He thought about the last time he visited his parents at age 19. Nothing had changed in his absence, not the depth of Mike's disapproval, not the thick veins branching across his temples as he shouted. Pain exploded in Austin's fist as it connected with his father's jaw but it was pain that the cocaine milling about his bloodstream wouldn't allow him to fully feel for another half hour. 'You're a disappointment'. That was the last thing Mike said to him. 'Fuck you', was Austin's response. He didn't speak to his dad for 4 years after that. And now those 4 years would be the rest of his life. The highly unlikely yet still possible chance for future reconciliation with Mike ceased to live just as his father ceased to live, and Austin didn't really know how to feel about that.

He remembered his and Ally's pity walk and how he didn't give a shit that it was a pity walk or that she wouldn't tell him about her injured hand because he was alone with her under stars and darkness. She had this incredible ability to make everything they did feel important, even a short stroll in suburbia. He learned that her talents spanned every musical instrument ever made. Then, minutes later, he was discovering this rage that lived inside of her. _Ally-cat_. God, she hadn't even seemed capable of being so furious when he first met her. She was too delicate, too uniquely designed to succumb to something so basic as anger and yet there it was, blistering hot and primal behind her eyes.

It was 3:55 am when calls and texts from the guys started to roll in like rough ocean waves. He ignored them all. Everything they needed to know was in the note.

He thought about Rae. She was almost Ally's opposite and yet so much of her reminded Austin of the MUNY dropout. Rae had the same big brown fawn's eyes but hers didn't hold the shredded remnants of a gossamer soul like Ally's did. Still, Austin had gotten caught up in that unending mahogany anyway. And when, in the throes of pleasure, he called out Ally's name, Rae simply smiled and gazed into the very center of him before saying 'It's ok' because she understood. He didn't know how or why but she did. And if that right there wasn't perfectly Ally of her then he didn't know what was. A small part of him wondered if he and The Awkwardians' lead singer could've actually had something. But the very next day she was already bragging to them about Gino, her latest conquest. That was alright though. Yes, Rae had a little something special. But she was no Ally.

He remembered the way Ally Dawson smiled at him from the back of Saint Gabriel's Catholic church as he stood there, nearly falling apart, waiting in line to view his father's body. It was completely unexpected. But she knew he was experiencing the kind of terrible feelings that no human should have to endure but every human does at some point. He was extremely high at the time yet her tiny red-lipped smile was able to calm a small piece of him that not even the coke could reach.

He thought about the first time he ever played his guitar _professionally_. He was 16 and had been living on the streets for 5 months. His clothes were dirty and he was in desperate need of a haircut and his funds were already starting to wear thin. So he picked what he thought was a good spot, somewhere sunny and open but heavy on the foot traffic. With the guitar case sitting wide open at his feet, Austin began to play classic, instantly recognizable songs that he'd grown up worshipping. His profits weren't that great but any amount that kept him from having to dumpster dive was enough. He didn't know it at the time but if he'd sang too he would've wooed the crowd even more, brought in a larger chunk of change. But Austin was young and still not completely aware of his own abilities yet. And anyway, while he would've rather gotten paper bills than metal coins, what really mattered was that the kind people of Florence, South Carolina thought that his playing was worth something. He got paid to strum his Gibson and that was the fucking textbook definition of being a professional.

He remembered the rain and the red Volkswagen and the scent of green apples. How could he not? The whole thing had ended badly but for some reason his brain didn't care. It curled around that memory like it was comforting. Maybe there was something about the taste of her lips or the way she leaned into him at the very last second, as if it was difficult but she just couldn't resist. Their skin was damp and their breathing shallow. Then she pushed him away.

He remembered the swingset and the tears, like diamonds, sparkling against her skin. He remembered her muddy Oxfords and the way she smiled when he invited her to join the broken people's club. Her kiss was so soft at the very corner of his mouth. Ally _Dawson_. A name that was hidden fire and whispered secrets.

He thought about that time he and Jace got into a fist fight because they were both 18 years old with equally foul mouths and bad attitudes. The relationship between him and Copper Top's drummer teetered on the edge of "frenemies" from the very beginning. Austin had endured enough physical and verbal abuse growing up that he struggled with insecurity so severe it bordered on self-hatred. And he and Jace were so alike, too alike, that Austin strongly disliked the guy only hours after Didi first introduced them all. But he didn't act on it. He held in his disfavor because that was how he learned to survive with his father, keep your anger inside and take it out on something else later. It worked for a while, almost 6 months to be exact. But then he couldn't hold it in anymore. That was why he'd run away in the first place. It turned out that the feelings were mutual and Jace wasn't too fond of him either. Words were said, or shouted, and fists were thrown and if you ask either of the guys now, 5 years later, each would declare himself the winner. Austin wasn't entirely sure how but later they bonded over bloody noses, something that, after living under a roof with Mike Moon for so long, he'd thought completely impossible. And out of the violence and animosity grew an inexplicably strong brotherhood.

He remembered the fear swirling in Ally's eyes as she watched him cut coke into neat little rows. Under Roxanne's roof they were in a different world, an alternate twilight altogether. _A-are we doing multiple lines?_ Her voice shook so much that she stuttered and all he really wanted to do was kiss her questions away. It was insane to see her so timid and afraid one minute, then boldly pressing a fingertip to her nostril the next; all sweet and innocent in her flowery sandals, snorting cocaine off of a glossy picture of Rihanna's unapologetic stare. In the panic of having fireworks and earthquakes wreak havoc in her brain, Ally had called out his name. He told her to relax and she did. Then, all of a sudden, they were doing another line and 'piece of fucking cake' was creeping lazily from her smiling lips.

Austin only stopped 3 times as he made the 9 hour drive back to Miami. Twice for bladder relief and food, once for a 30 minute nap. For a second, as he sat half asleep in some empty Walmart parking lot with his seat reclined aaaalllll the way back, Austin asked himself what the hell he was doing. He didn't belong in Miami. It had taken an average weeks' worth of coke for him to even TOLERATE the place for just 3 days. So why was Ally worth it? Why did she seem to work even better than the blow sometimes? He drifted off to sleep unwilling, and frankly quite unable, to answer either question.

It was that quick yet supremely refreshing nap that Austin longed to revisit as he drove the final 20 minutes into his hometown. Exit signs blurred as they whizzed by and he felt his stomach begin to lurch uncomfortably like some kind of recurring nightmare. It was déjà vu all over again. Except this time there was no crappy omelet to sit like a heavy, nauseating excuse in his gut. Austin's belly was full of butterflies and they weren't just fluttering, they were kickboxing. The city was 40% ocean and 60% shit, yet it still intimidated him. He hated that.

Last time Austin was only minutes away from the center of hell, Dez had called just to check in. The blonde didn't expect that to happen this time around. He'd basically ignored every sound his phone made since leaving the hotel in Atlanta. All the unanswered attempts at communication from the guys had stopped hours ago. Austin felt largely alone as he crept closer to his exit, but it was far too late to turn back. So he took several deep breaths and tried to remind himself of what was waiting for him in the dreaded depths of Floridian suburbia.

His mind conjured up a memory of Ally as if the brunette was smoke inhaled a long time ago and now, finally, allowed to come curling out in a much needed exhale. They kissed in her bedroom like they'd been kissing since its invention. She was everywhere, consuming his senses so completely that it overwhelmed him and he clutched her tightly to maintain some sanity. Everything about her, the legs straddling him, the arms cradling his head, the mouth devouring his kisses, was so very warm that he seriously began to wonder if he himself had always been so cold. Then she'd pressed into him and he seriously began to doubt that he'd ever be cold again. Not with her stoking this desire in him that, with a cocaine kindling, erupted into flame.

Austin licked his lips and put his hands at 10 and 2 on Roxanne's steering wheel. He thought about what happened after their intense make out session. Her bruise was almost indigo in the center and pale yellow on its edges, radiating out over her delicate skin in a sickening gradient. He could barely take his eyes off of it as she twirled in the middle of the room. Hearing her gruesome story crushed together with her ukulele's happy melodies made him feel sick. _You know the funny thing about rape?_ Austin cringed visibly in the driver's seat. It was such a chilling question, slipping from Ally's pink lips with a voice that was too cheery to be normal. She grinned and spun around as blood dripped from her nose, asking him if her catharsis was victory. He'd wondered briefly if she was having some kind of a breakthrough, if she was possibly coming to terms with what happened to her. But then the blonde remembered that there was real life beyond their cocaine high and not some bullshit Lifetime movie. Ally was crying because a motherfucker named Dallas had managed to ruin moments he wasn't even a part of. And breakthrough or not, that kind of pain reared its ugly head whenever it wanted, even after years, sometimes even after white lines. The brunette was in store for a lot more crying, a lot more ruined moments.

Austin gave Roxy's steering wheel a slow, subtle turn, guiding her into the far right lane. The exit welcomed them both with wide open arms.

"Fuck." He grumbled uncomfortably, his hand rifling through the small stash of pilfered anonymous cigarettes crowding his glove compartment.

Bumming cigs from the drunk chicks at OHA was almost too easy. He'd just lean in, voice ultra raspy, and work his request into their already heavily suggestive conversation. A little smirk and a little smolder and the girl was practically throwing them at him, eyes all but begging him to make her his favorite. Ever cool and collected, Austin would place the cancer stick behind his ear and tell her he was saving it for later. She'd swoon, practically melting to the floor because she thought that meant she was special. Now, cruising down the exit ramp and sticking one between his lips, the blonde couldn't have remembered or even given a shit about which ditzy groupie had gifted it to him. He was still grateful though and so were his lungs as they silently collected something smoky, grey, and definitely bad for them. It was 12:00 pm on the dot, Austin was puffing his brunch, and he could feel static sneaking up behind him. The electricity of anticipation was in the air. He felt…..excited?

"Fucking hell." the guitarist scoffed in complete annoyance. He pulled his new black Ray Bans down over his brown eyes and took a deep, hard drag from the cigarette. Feeling excited to be back in Miami wasn't, and would never be, okay. He'd snort all the coke in the world and suffocate that grossly misplaced emotion if he had to. Austin made a right turn as he argued with himself, head versus heart, over what he should be feeling.

"This was a mistake." He whispered to nothing or no one in particular. "A big fat fucking whale of a mistake."

He'd just driven through 10 hours of night and dawn, only to limp Roxanne to the finish line and immediately regret making the trip at all. But what good did that realization do him? The point of no return was way back at the Florida-Georgia state line somewhere.

The next left turn brought him right up against the beach, just like last time. It was far less crowded than before since some of the late Spring Breakers had finally gone back to where they'd flown in from. The shore was largely vacant, just a long swath of sand sloping gently into the sea.

That deep, insatiable worry erupted in the back of his mind again. What if Dallas had decided on one last conquest before heading back to New York? Austin's grip tightened around the steering wheel. _What if?_ He drug smoke, thick and dark, into his airways and tried not to crush the cigarette between his fingers. Pink Floyd played from the radio, urging him to breathe, breathe in the air. So he did, over and over as Miami whizzed by.

Being practically engulfed in the smell of ocean water, Austin couldn't have stopped his brain from rushing to a potent memory even if he tried, even if he wanted to try. And why would he when there was a tiny pencil tattoo sitting next to a tiny guitar tattoo waiting for him in his mind's eye? He really did almost crash his car when she revealed the ink on her shoulder. He accidentally ran a red light and cut off a Toyota Camry that was rightfully crossing the intersection. It was hard for him to admit because he'd nearly totaled Roxanne and for what? A goddamn shoulder with tattoos that he'd never in a million years thought would be there? A grin suddenly spread across his face as he thought about the way she mocked him and stuck out her tongue. Ally didn't need to flash a tit or her ass to completely arrest his attention, just a cute little shoulder. Austin chuckled to himself. He was such a fucking loser. He was so fucking sappy and just realizing that only made him laugh more.

He thought about the way she'd treated his wounds so tenderly, even with disappointment swirling in her eyes, even with bitter apathy weighing down her voice. The feel of her fingers brushing against him, cleaning the blood and grime from his life, became so strong that it transcended Austin's memory. He was practically reliving their moment on the Boardwalk as he pulled up to the stop sign that had started it all. Sober Ally looked so weary that, if he hadn't still been just a little bit high, he probably wouldn't have asked her to walk with him. But he did and, no matter how reluctantly, she accepted.

Austin sat at the big red sign, his foot pressed to Roxanne's brake pedal. Below her undercarriage, he knew there was a slightly discolored patch of asphalt where he'd vomited after staring into the very face of gorgeous devastation. The ant nirvana had been dismantled, consumed for energy and reduced to nothing. He rolled down his window and flicked the near-extinguished butt of his cigarette in some sort of crappy memorial. Maybe it would roll under the car and sit smoldering where his toxic insides had been. He was losing his mind at an exponential rate and not even the ghost of Ally's healing hands could hold him together. It had been less than a week since he left but the city's temperatures were marching deeper into Spring's bright heat. Flowers were already beginning to bloom and, though it pained him to admit it, his childhood home looked practically picturesque from his street view. It was like a perfect gingerbread house with its brown paint and white trim. There were even lemon and cherry tulips sprouting along the borders. Mimi's car sat in the driveway and he wondered if she was in the kitchen baking up a storm, or in her bedroom crying into a mug of tea that was 'spiced' with something strong. She'd called him and left about a million voicemails the day he left. He only needed to listen to one to get a gist of what the others were about. Basically she wept for 3 minutes, imploring him, begging him to tell her why he'd left without saying goodbye. He didn't answer or return any of her calls. He didn't listen to anymore messages after that first one before deleting the rest. What he did do, however, was smoke and snort and fuck and strum until Mimi's voice stopped stabbing that spot that pained him when she cried.

A car horn behind him jerked Austin out of his thoughts. He was the Ally now, sitting at a stop sign way too long because he'd gotten lost in his past. He stuck his middle finger up out of the open window and made a smooth right turn.

Austin Moon's heart slammed against the back of his rib cage, pumping blood as red as the small car he seemed to always be looking for. There was nervousness encroaching quickly on his excitement and he began to chew roughly on his bottom lip, his mind reeling with thoughts of sandy shores, green umbrellas, Boston Crème pies, and assholes named Dallas. Then it all stopped. It was like someone built a cinderblock wall directly in front of Austin's brain as it raced 100 mph with no brakes. His grey matter became impossibly quiet, flattened against the sobering and unexpected site before him.

The VW Bug wasn't there.

His eyes were trained on that spot where there should've been a shiny hump of red waiting, and found nothing but a silver Honda Accord. It was a miracle he didn't run over any neighborhood children as his gaze completely disregarded the road to stare at a half empty carport. Roxanne came to a creeping halt curbside. He killed the engine and silence settled like a wool blanket. Austin was lost for what felt like the longest moment. This wasn't part of the plan. If Ally wasn't home then she was out somewhere in Miami, alone with nothing for protection but her own prying questions. He took a quick breath, unbuckled himself, and quickly got out of the car, ripping away his trepidation like a bandaid.

The tip of his finger bent ever so slightly backwards as he pressed the doorbell. Chimes bounced around behind that infamous navy blue door with its gold fixtures. It made him think of all the times he'd spent watching that door, waiting for Ally to come out or waiting for Ally to lead him in. Waiting. When did he go from being an emerging rock star to just a guy, waiting, in front of a blue door?

"Austin?"

Penny Dawson had a very expressive face, and the second she opened her door to find the late Mike Moon's blonde son, it showed nothing but surprise.

"Hey Mrs. Dawson." He struggled to speak with his mouth so dry.

She offered him a confused smile that was partially friendly, "Hiiiii…..um sorry I'm just surprised to see you here your mom said you headed back to Virginia."

"Is Ally here?"

Austin jumped right over her question because he didn't just drive more than 10 hours to make small talk with someone's mom. He licked his lips and gently adjusted his shades. Being able to hide his eyes was a definite advantage.

She hesitated, suddenly very unsure about this messy-haired young man who, she heard, had run away from home when he was only 16 years old. But Penny had seen a change in her daughter ever since she took some inexplicable interest in Austin Moon last weekend. Though the change was extremely subtle, it was clear to Ally's mother that she had taken a turn for the positive. So Mrs. Dawson studied him for a moment that was long enough to make Austin seriously consider running away.

"Oh no she's not." She finally replied, her voice wrapping him up in both relief and disappointment, "She actually left for CVS a few minutes ago to pick up a prescription for her hand." Penny shook her head in amusement, "She's been cooped up in this house all week and the second she leaves she finally gets a visitor."

Then he was gone, off of her porch with a mumbled 'Thanks' before she could even make any kind of cordial chit chat.

Austin barely even heard the radio as he drove. It was something mellow that smoothed over him. The melody wormed its way into his brain and coiled around the memories there. He thought about his and Ally's midnight walk through the water, her leggings rolled up to her knees. The blonde thought about how moonlight reflected as elegantly in her eyes as it did across the dark ocean. And when they sat in the sand to talk, he offered her the root of his imperfections. Everything, Mike, the blood, the guitar, the pain, and the razor blades, were all met with the sweetest understanding imaginable. Then they kissed, between sand and stars, over something he said about glue and textures and beauty.

Austin navigated the familiar streets of his hometown with anticipation arresting the hairs along his arms and Ally holding his mind hostage. She'd struck out at him like a cornered animal when he finally put her down because he was suddenly just another guy doing whatever he wanted to her. Then they rode back in silence heavy enough to smother whatever music the radio offered. And though he watched Ally as she stalked up the length of her driveway and placed her hand on the doorknob, she didn't look back once.

He pulled into the CVS parking lot, needing only a few seconds to spot Ally's car. Her red Beetle stood out like a sore thumb in a small fleet of typical Miami sports cars. A unique ride for a unique girl. He parked as close to it as he could, pulling Roxy into a spot 3 full spaces away. And when Austin pulled the keys from the ignition to let silence and screeching gulls surround him again, he sat there, clueless about what his next step should be. The CVS loomed to his left, sporting a partially broken 'S' and a redbox dispensary. The temptation to go inside was quickly clouding his better judgement. He was still prohibited from entering. If someone watching the security tapes just happened to identify and report him, he would be looking at some kind of jail time. A no nonsense judge had made that VERY clear. Austin eyes rolled behind his shades. In nearly half a decade he hadn't given 2 shits about being banned from the pharmacy franchise, and now all he wanted was to step foot inside to find what he needed. He watched as the store mocked him, its sliding doors opening and closing for the numerous customers still allowed to patronize it. His eyes rolled again, slower this time, as he flicked open the glove compartment and grabbed another cigarette. His only option was to wait. And if there was one thing the impatient blonde hated, it was waiting.

Especially when it was for something he'd been craving for days.

He held the cigarette between his lips and actually took a second to feel the papery surface. Then he thought about the pen that stuck out of Ally's hair the morning he left. She'd been up the entire night, scribbling lyrics, feeling her own paper slide beneath her hand. Somehow sleepless nights treated her well because even exhausted she was beautiful. Austin flicked the sparkwheel of his lighter and held its perfect orange flame against the cigarette's waiting end. She was so unintentionally sexy with tired, half-lidded eyes and a dorky t-shirt and an exposed bellybutton. Then she thanked him. The blonde still couldn't quite comprehend that. He must've done something for her in the span of 3 days, something she thought was valuable enough to warrant an expression of gratitude. But Austin hardly thought himself capable of providing anything significant to someone so special. The brown flakes of tobacco at the end of his cigarette burned brightly, incinerating as he took that first glorious inhale. Smoke and heat spilled down his windpipe, curling down his anatomy the same way his handwriting curved black ink across Ally's skin. _She's mad but she's magic….there's no lie in her fire…._

He'd had that quote stored in the back of his brain for years, and all the while it was meant for Allyson Dawson. It was meant to be written on her bare arm at 9 am on a Sunday after a night of full consciousness and lyrical expression. It was meant to be scribbled spontaneously. It was meant to be printed in temporary ink because once she read it he knew she'd never need to be reminded again.

Austin exhaled. And then that was it. The guitarist only made it through one single drag before he was already fucking done with waiting. He abandoned Roxanne and slammed her door shut. To an outsider, he was as confident as ever. He strode around the front of Roxanne all dressed for a night out in Atlanta, Georgia. His white distressed tank hung on his lean frame, exposing the corner of his WWDD tattoo. The army green, slim fit blazer he'd thrown over it flapped just slightly in the warm breeze. The rest of the outfit, jeans, high top Converse, and shades, were as black as certain parts of his heart. In the sun, his mop of blonde hair could've easily blinded someone as he ascended the driveway. On the surface he was Austin Moon, Flesh & Bone's lead singer and guitarist, back in his hometown to reclaim something important. But beneath that he was Austin, a broken boy who very much liked a broken girl and wasn't quite sure what to do with such a feeling. So, though he seemed self-assured, under that tan skin and black ink, his lungs were almost breaking down.

Ally's car was just as he remembered it, including the small mess of clothes and other junk in the backseat. He peered through her window and spotted the yellow MUNY t-shirt he'd used to dry off after their impromptu sprint through the rain and the green umbrella she'd left behind in order to make him more comfortable.

The cigarette dangled from Austin's lips as he paused for a moment, its nicotine having done nothing for his wild heartbeat. Inside the car he knew there was the scent of green apples and the floormats were probably stained with muddy shoeprints from a soaked cemetery. With one last glance at CVS' automatic doors, Austin placed both hands on the VW Bug and began to push and pull with all of his might. The small vehicle rocked on its axles for maybe 4 seconds before the alarm began to blare and the taillights flashed.

Austin was never a patient person.

With the theft alarm creating this harsh beat, the blonde 23 year old leaned against the side of the Beetle and folded his arms. People shot suspicious glances that barely even registered his attention. He was too busy concentrating on the smoke in his airways and trying to deny the fuzziness of excitement from completely overtaking him. Adrenaline gushed into his vasculature until the blood was diluted and his heart was practically fluttering. He breathed in another lungful of smoke, hoping to slow everything running rampant inside of him. His brown eyes, shielded by the inky black tint of his Ray bans, were glued to the CVS entrance.

Waiting. Yet again, he was waiting. Waiting for….what? The unlikely possibility that Ally might recognize her car alarm specifically? The employees to make an intercom announcement about a potential car theft?

Waiting. AGAIN, he was fucking waiting.

But not for long…

Austin almost swallowed the cigarette. He hated waiting yet at that very second he wished he had more time because he wasn't expecting her to appear so quickly. But there she was, in the flesh, rushing out of the pharmacy, gaze searching frantically for her precious Beetle. When those eyes did finally find it and, as a result, _him_ , they widened to the size of dinner plates. He watched complete astonishment commandeer every facial feature she owned. Like mother, like daughter he supposed. And to see her so immediately frazzled bolstered Austin's courage like crazy. A confident smirk made its way to his face. He leaned there, arms still folded, cigarette smoldering, and waited as the car alarm faded into insignificance. Ally was motionless for 3 more muted beats of the angry Volkswagen before snapping out of it and quickly rummaging through her purse. Nerves basically shot, she almost dropped the key fob once she found it.

Austin chuckled, mumbling to himself, "Real smooth Dawson."

The brunette finally silenced her car with the press of a button. Then Ally took that first tentative step towards the insanely unexpected site in front of her. She walked slowly but that was fine. This was one thing Austin didn't really mind waiting for. He took advantage of her timid pace and allowed his eyes to absorb her carefully.

She wore a black crew neck sweater that was covered in sunflowers and at least 4 sizes too large. Black leggings disappeared under the oversized top and just below those, on her feet, a pair of black Doc Martins softly scraped the asphalt. Austin wondered if the giant sweater that hung to her knees and the black scarf wrapped around her neck and the grey beanie on her head were for comfort or for invisibility. The blonde assumed it was at least 90% the latter. He lifted his shades to the top of his head and Ally arrested his vision in stunning, real life, un-tinted color. She was smiling.

And blushing like a fucking maniac.

He took a puff from the cigarette and realized as he went to purse his lips and exhale that his mouth was grinning too hard to do so. He blew the smoke from his nose instead.

Seconds ticked by, fates intertwined, and feet steadily lessened to inches.

"U-uhm wow hi." Her pink lips moved and that sweet voice came tumbling out awkwardly.

"Well hello madam Ally." He stood up straight, gesturing to her Bug with the burning cigarette, "I think some asshole was trying to steal your car."

Her eyebrows shot up in amusement, "Oh really?"

"Really. It's a good thing I was here."

She rolled her eyes, "My hero."

Her face had yet to stop blushing and he found it impossible to look at anything but her eyes because they told a story. She wasn't wearing any makeup and her natural lashes looked so soft and delicate without mascara. There were bags, only slightly darker than the rest of her complexion, hanging just below her lower lids and undoubtedly filled with several sleepless, fearful nights. He tried to picture her round attic window from the outside, illuminated well past midnight and rivaling the sun as it rose. What songs had she written in those magic hours? What clumsy harmonica melodies had she fiddled with and tweaked to perfection? Their eyes met and Austin could see that the whites of hers were tinted red. How many times had she cried that week?….That day…?

He averted his gaze as far as he could, which ultimately wasn't very far at all. His brain was fixated on Ally Dawson, and it only allowed his eyes to deviate the length of her arm and linger on her right hand.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, appreciating the thin layer of gauze wrapped around her palm.

Brown eyes met brown eyes and he immediately realized that he wasn't asking about her hand, not really. Ally knew it too. Austin could tell by the way her eyes silently began to glisten with tears. He took another puff from his cigarette, trying to dull the ache that her sadness awakened in him. The moment was growing more and more serious with each wordless second but Austin was in no hurry to fill it. He'd learned that if there was anything worth actually being patient for, it was to hear Ally speak. So he stared into eyes that seemed to hold pain as naturally as they held mahogany brown, and let her have all the moments she needed.

Then she smiled. Ally smiled a genuine smile even as tears brimmed her eyes because she knew they weren't going to spill over.

"Those things'll kill you you know." She pointed to the cancer stick dangling from his lips.

He smirked, "Yeah no shit."

And it was just like before, except this time he dropped the cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his sneaker.

Then he wasn't sure what to say. He'd never abandoned a prestigious music festival and drove almost half a day just to see some girl he barely knew. It was all wildly new territory. And it certainly didn't help that all she had to do was look at him and just like that he was consumed completely.

"How was your birthday?" he asked lamely, folding his arms only because he didn't know what to do with his empty hands.

"What're you doing here?"

Her voice was soft and innocent but with a hint of underlying seriousness because she already had her own suspicions. It was a simple question that rose the hairs on his arms and stole all the moisture from his throat because the truth, his truth, could potentially change universes. His philosophy had always been that life was too shitty to waste time overthinking the good parts that came along. That didn't seem to apply here now because this part was much more than 'good' and he was already way past 'overthinking'. His response would be pivotal. Yes, she already had some kind of idea why he returned but that meant nothing if he didn't confirm it. A word, a look, anything to let her know that she was right. That was all Ally wanted, he could tell by the way she fidgeted with her fingertips and pleaded with her eyes. He licked his lips uselessly and tore a hand through his blonde hair, almost knocking the Ray Bans to the ground.

Suddenly embarrassed and shier than he'd ever been EVER, Austin shrugged.

"Um I don't know I just felt like coming back to Miami…um you know to check on Mimi and all that."

He lied. And even worse than that, he lied _badly_.

It only took her big brown eyes 2 seconds, a tiny fraction of a minute, to swallow him whole and completely penetrate his flimsy fib. But Ally didn't call him out because she could _see_ the truth flickering in his guarded gaze and hiding in his self-conscious body language. She knew. She _knew_ why he'd returned, as if him hunting her down at the CVS wasn't evidence enough. A warm fuzzy heat filled her skull at this huge revelation. And to think, just 6 days ago she was almost too shy to ask him to come see her before he left for OHA. And then, goodness gracious, the morning that he left she had wanted so badly to ask him to stay but was far too afraid to do so. Fear had always stifled her. But Austin….he was a different breed entirely. How was it that he could drive across states for what he wanted while she was still somehow trapped in her driveway, reading the words scribbled on her arm and wishing she had the courage to tell him how she felt?

The brunette grinned as she quietly digested the magnitude of what Austin's return meant.

"What?" he couldn't help but smile back.

She gave him a look that was all sass and playful attitude.

"You're fucking needy Moon you know that?"

Austin had to bite his lip to keep from grinning and even then it didn't work very well. He blushed, he fucking blushed, as Ally giggled at her own joke. And when he couldn't endure either, the heat in his face or her melodic laughter, the blonde stepped closer and pressed his lips to hers.

They kissed for all the days they'd been apart. She kissed him for coming back. She kissed him because he was all sunbaked skin and golden hair. She kissed him for reminding her how utterly breathtaking kissing could be.

Austin had kissed Ally multiple times before, and every time he found himself unable to describe the incredible feel of it. Suddenly, though, the words were coming to him as he cradled her face in both hands and she held onto his wrists for dear life. Kissing Ally was like performing on stage in front of millions and he's hitting every note and every chord perfectly. Kissing Ally was like a needle softly puncturing his flesh shooting something unbelievably potent directly into his blood, smothering his brain and filling his heart. Kissing Ally was like being home, before things got bad, when he had no idea what it was like to not have a family. He kissed her because she was new, she was alabaster skin and dark tresses. He kissed her because even broken she was so warm and complete.

Austin felt her arms softly reaching up to circle his neck. He wrapped his own around her waist and they drew even closer. It was amazing. How had it taken him so long to realize that he missed this? He was so caught up in OHA and everything it offered him, the music, the sex, the drugs, the kindred spirits. He forgot that sometimes Ally could be a little better than each of those. So he left them all for her. Austin Monica Moon, rock and roll fanatic, music enthusiast, and all around guitar freak, had foregone an entire day of One Hundred Amps, had abandoned his own personal Eden, a heavenly paradise he didn't even think he deserved sometimes, to do exactly what he was doing at that exact moment: kissing Ally into oblivion as she kissed him senseless.

The End.


End file.
